The High Chair
THE HIGH CHAIR
To some it is just a high chair
But to me it’s something else
As the boys are at their wooden table,
On normal wooden chairs.
While they sit there with plates
And eat with knives and forks
I’m sitting up here in my spaceship
On top of this four-legged rocket.
Astronauts have food in bags
Dry meals to be re-hydrated
Mine comes in a plastic bowl
Nutritious rations for the flight.
Dry rusks, teething biscuits
I can’t really bite them yet
But I certainly like to chew.
Feel good between my fingers too.
Strapped in tight, sat back
Feet on footrest, table set,
It even has a luggage rack
Or is that a safety net?
Spent months laying on my back
And always looking up to see
My world from ground level.
Now I can look out and down as well.
Sitting here in my shiny spaceship
All ready for the flight, and counting:
Three. Two. One. Lift Off. ‘Where will I go’,
I wonder. ‘What will I see today?’
16th Sept. 2007.