Sitting on a Gray Plank Porch in a Rocking Chair
Might be heaven
might not
Might be death
or not completely
Could be we’re big-time important
Could be we’re just whittling a stick
May be that the only way
we’ll ever love ourselves
is love our neighbor
9 thoughts on "Sitting on a Gray Plank Porch in a Rocking Chair"
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I feel like I have been rocking on this “gray plank porch” after reading your poem. So many things “could be” and it comes down to one as evidenced in your last line.
Goodness! I’m right there with you.
Words drawn wonderfully! I think I was a stick whittler in another life.
by the first four lines I was rocking
Incredible world building and perfect on the page.
Amen.
Agreed with the Amen. This poem is clear as a bell and it resonates
The Will Rodgers of KY.
This my kind
of Philosophy.
lots said in so few words! Rockers soothe us.
Love the title, the might be and the could be and the ending may be, Whew!.
Rocking is a good remedy!