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WOMAN IN ROCKING CHAIR
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COUNTRY POEMS
She was out there in the rain.
She was out there in the snow. Inside, she did not go.
She was out there in the sun. She thought it was fun.
She was looked out at the street. She thought it was neat.
In a chair of green, she could always be seen.
In a chair of white, day or night, she was always a delight.
She was always there in her chair that rocked.
To passeby, she loved to talk.
She was so good. A fixture in the neighborhood.
Everybody did go. Everybody did know.
One day
Her, I did not see.
I asked her husband why.
She had died.
We both did cry.
