A red rocking chair
abandoned in a field
of freshly cut clover,
rocks back and forth-
squeaks each time
the wind pushes
at its back,
then,
retreats.
-1975-
words & photo: Michael Lee Johnson (more)
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2 comments:
this is a lovely poem - thank you for sharing it
and I enjoyed the photo :) !
Wow really nice collection of Rocking Chairs from spacify.com
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