I’m on the porch rocking,
and a robin’s chirping on the line,
and all around me time’s passing,

while the pink knock out’s are blooming.
A neighbor says, “That skinned knee’s fine,”
and I’m on the porch rocking,

and someone’s dog’s out, tail wagging,
looking for another master not to mind,
and all around me time’s passing,

and the sky’s thundering and drizzling.
A threadbare flag next door’s blowing in the wind,
and I’m on the porch rocking,

watching a butterfly sipping
summer from a flower, inclined
to ignore all around it time passing.

Later in the kitchen I’ll start cooking,
fill my glass with deep blushing wine,
but now I’m on the porch rocking,
and all around me time’s passing.