Rocking Away
leaves withered and grew as the old man sat,
in his wooden rocking chair gently swaying,
waiting for the day to come,
people come to chat and sit,
while he spoke of a better day to come,
and the day came and felt no better or worse,
he rocked and pondered and puffed a pipe,
missing yesterday.
Copyright © Nicholas Enloe | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment