Rocking Chair
There is no hint
Of weight or worry
No surface scratch or scar;
Just peek-a-boo winks
Of wear and tear
That rocks the soul
But goes nowhere;
Spit and polish,
Good as new
Few look further
Than the body
Fewer still
Past the bones
To see beneath
The angled eaves
At the bottom
Of the soles
Where the grain of wood
Is worn and weary
From too much rocking
Back
And
Forth
Joy rolled forth
Pain rocked back
And between the flurry
Lied a longing
Creaking ever more
O to be a chair, just a chair
Once more
TL