Rocking The Chair by Laureano Eric M Garayblas

I sit back on my rocking chair
Stare at the window waiting for the sunset
I guess today the sun may not appear
The clouds are low. The air is humid.

For soon the showers start to trickle
Condensing daintily upon my window pane
And the blurring droplets washes the trail
Ending the season of trips and games.

I watch the sparrows in patterned flight
Fleeing perhaps from some frightful plot
Early in the day, I saw black ants in line
Something has to give, in this ominous night.

I sync by the ticks of the clock
Counting the cycles in rhyme with my life
I rock my chair as if I were on top
Stopping softly, till friends walk out of sight.

Legend 60 plus (71.217.17.112) -- Saturday, November 17 2007, 05:08 am

A good poem!
I worked at several 3 story buildings for the elderly. I had a real eye opener. I seen some of them, doing the same routine everyday. I pictured myself in their chair, someday. Even met a man 100 years old. Still goes for walks. Nice to do nothing and be retire. But we all must wait, because we will expire. Hey, how about getting one of those video motorcycle games. That will get your heart racing, sitting in your rocking chair. Mess up that ant trail, and see how long it takes for them to fix their path. Take care Laureano, enjoyed your poem alot.

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