The Rocker

William Balfour Ker

 

She sits alone in the rocking chair

At times it seems as no one’s there

She dresses in her Sunday best

And faces the fields out to the west

A soft blue dress and hat of white

A pair of shoes that now are tight

She hums a song that once brought tears

And slips back gently through the years

They danced beneath the tall oak tree

To Goodman and Miller and Peggy Lee

He held her close and sang a song

Of life and death and love gone wrong

They farmed the fields and raised a son

But never finished what they’d begun

He drove away one summer’s morn

Through fields of grass and golden corn

She sat in the chair and began to rock

And kept her eyes upon the clock

The night came fast and next the dawn

The morning dew sparkled upon the lawn

She never knew where he had gone

Or why she couldn’t come along

Her heart was broken that summer night

And never again could mend it right

She sits and rocks for most the day

And hums the song they used to play

She waits for him to come back home

Until that day she rocks alone

 

 ~Claudia Anderson

 

 

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15 thoughts on “The Rocker

    1. I have to admit it wasn’t based on any particular person…it was written so long ago I’ve forgotten the trigger. But I’m so glad you liked it. With wonderful poets like you and Walt around, I have very stiff competition!

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