The Rocking Chair

Poema/Poem

The twilight outside the window
vainly strives to stay alive.
On the wall a baby's picture, and then
his midday light on golden frame.
Outside the light succumbs to blue,
the silver smile of her caress
so soothing by my side . . . inside.
But I am alone
watching tonight yesterday's dream.
Outside so big, inside so cold.
She slowly comes, I slowly await.
Surely softly we will clash without a word,
for now otherwise it cannot be.
Again I see the pictures with a smile,
and in this my rocking chair while I take her hand,
I'll think of death as dead.
cspellot