They Had Their Day - Oct. 28, 2025

that pair of weather-worn chairs

on the front porch, kept at

right angles for conversation,

wait for what won’t happen

two butts snuggling to a stop

two drinks raised to lips, that would

take the time to talk about the world

as it wanders by

they’d follow the lives of birds, squirrels,

leaves and shadows, knew the sounds of

dogs and children and to whom they belonged

smelled flowers they knew and didn’t

a place where folks would sit and burrow

into life, theirs’, others’, the ones next door,

those far away, they’d stare at the antiquity of

stars and wonder about the earth’s future

but always, it was hard to rock and keep

the eyes open, before floating away