It waited for her
The little yellow chair
At the back of the house
In the little nook
Hidden away
From anyone’s eyes

Late afternoon sunshine
Filtered through
The winter boughs
Eaves and overhangs
Sheltered her
From the usual Vancouver rain

But today
The sun
Fell on
Her little sunshine chair

A cigarette
And long moments
Filled with thoughts
Without consequence
Smalltalk daydreams
To pass the time
In seeming silence
While she chattered
With herself
About nothing

Beside the red house
Which was all red inside
Though the walls were white
And the Late Colonial furniture
In browns and blues

A quiet little moment
Of no small function
Before returning to
The dysfunction within

A small, life-saving moment
Of manufactured sunshine
Amplified
By the trickle of sun
Passing through naked branches