The Rocking Chair

  The Rocking Chair


The fire's glow softens,
tired and weary labors.
Long hours, spent often,
with gatherings of neighbors.

After meals and sunset,
have signaled the end of day.
The smell of burning embers,
leaves nothing more to say.

Restful passions and memories,
conjured by the flames.
Endow us to remember,
when life was child's play.

But as age and strength wanes,
like embers shrinking glow.
Upon our rocker's rest,
some day, we too will go.

S A Gibbins  11-17-91