Dust settles
On a dilapidated porch
Indifferent to the man
That rocks back and forth
On the old chair for hours
With a look in his eye
Decay settles around him
But his stare’s staying strong
His gaze is as focused
As his gray beard is long
But he’s looking at nothing
Far as I can tell
If he never stands up
Then it’s just as well
Even if it is something
That just he can see
If nothing is done
That’s all it will be
A Life in Poems 