poetry du jour
— by David Plahm

The Rockin’ Chair Gospel

The Rockin’ Chair Gospel

For who’s left…

Read this at home
In the quiet time
In the early dawn.

When the sun
Is gifting that first
pink blush.

Glorious and sacred.

My death
No option

Off loaded…
Left Outside
just…leave me in my Rockin’ Chair

(But, say goodbye, I love you, and thank you)

Disoriented
Sometimes
Disgusted.

Sometimes…
I’m a silly salad
Or a chickn’
On the grill
I don’t know
What the eF’n I’m talkin” bout
Or what ef’n even is…

But
If
I
Think
Of You?

Everything becomes clear.

Shit,

I look at my hands
Veiny, wrinkled—
Just damned old.

I look at you
Years
And
Years

Behind
Me.
In my eyes.

My life’s
Wear and tears
Drip, Drip

My life’s
Wear and tears
Torn, Torn

Do you
feel the
Difference?

Do you
Know?

How much
I missed

Seeing
You

Today?

Age has a bearing.
I know.

It’s
Wearin’.

I’m shakin’.

My boots were
Left outside.
The chameleons
Live there now.

My age
Clarity
Memory…
My emotions
Some now visited
By those cute little
Busy lizards.

Lost
In these
Wrinkled
Hands

But,
A smile
I still
Gift

My
Love?

I’m
Just
A Weary
Person
At the
End.

My love…
Died
Years ago.

The funeral
I still
Live
Today.

My heart?
Hurts

But lives
For you.

Just as
My friend
And brother-in-law
Sodie
The soul of moving dirt.
Loving a good soul, Jaimie.
Her laugh a personal remembrance.

Still
Lives.

Sitting in
A Rockin’ Chair
Under a setting sun
Reading the works
Of the Bard.
Knowing
The importance of
Family.

The auction
Published.

My
Possessions
The Family Bible
Off-Loaded.

I know…
Firsthand
How difficult
That can be.

I know…
Been there.

The least?

Say thank you
For all they
Did
For you.

Let them go
In peace
And love.

Not ignorance
Disdain
Selfish
Stupidity.

Just
A little
Love.

A whispered breath—
“Thank you”
“Love you”
As they slip
Into the After.

That last breath…
Just became
Peaceful.

Where you
And I
Will join
Them.
Soon.

Sittin’ in
My Rockin’ Chair.
Creakin’.

The sunset—
On the horizon
Flaming out,
Glorious, Sacred.
Chameleons rockin’
In my Christmas socks.

I’m so…
Happy.

My final moment.
My testimony.
It is ordinary.

Turn off
the porch light.

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AuthorPortrait
David Plahm
Poet, Author, Founder
The Honey Bee Bard
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