An old rocking chair
stands on the porch.
Many times I sit there
watching people go on their way.
Occasionally one or two
will stop and talk about the day.
We’ll sit and rock,
chatting about the weather
and about kids and home.
All the time
the old rocking chair
rocks back and forth
with me sitting there.
6 March 2008
David Harris
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-old-rocking-chair/
