Sunday, January 10, 2016

Red Rocker

The wind is hustling and so
The red rocker deck chair pitches and yaws
And perhaps what was once (or is still to be)
A trace of you, or me
Pitches and sways there?
An atom or two of someone we knew
Slowed to encounter
This chair
This roadside attraction
A way-stop on a longer journey
Paused, resisted, and changed and then
Free again to move with such abandon
Free from being reigned in
Then locked
Bonded in some more solid body
Organic or inorganic.
Time will show such change
Both as loss and gain
And the blowing wind will offer an answer.


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