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Rocking Chair

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

 

Published inTamiko Lowery