Comfy Chair

Comfy Chair

by dwight j. friesen

Afghan wrapped and curled up in a comfy chair
She sits for hours in another world
Laughing and weeping with her fictional friends
Her heart breaks with theirs
Her tea grows cold, in her big clear mug precariously perched on a pile of emptied books
Walking into the room
Her eyes lift from the page and a ringed hand emerges from the
blanked warmth to draw me in
Sharing a line, a scene, and a tear
I climb on her lap, carefully avoiding her chilled Earl Grey
And I too - am swept away
Into another world where my heart breaks with hers
My hopes build on hers
And I am warmed and comforted and home

Peace, dwight