The rocking chair,
I sat there with you
And you sat there with me holding my fragile-dreaming hand
As the wind blew the warmest summer scent
through the blind-starred sky
I saw you
in those stars,
in the brightest ones
that spelled out my future
in white ink
scrawled over the black night.

The rocking chair,
Where I watched the sunrise sprinkle red-light
on my auburn hair
As you gave me
My own star
on a gold band
The unsettling murmurs
declaring us too young,
too naive, too fast
were drowned out by the steady sway of our rocking chair pendulously swinging toward the sky.

It was a different time then,
The rotted chair has been taken down
And my fiery hair has faded to gray with age;
sadness;
time
and your cool, blue heart
refrains from sound
But yet
I know
that somehow
you still sit
in our rocking chair watching me
watch the timeless sky scrawl our past
in black ink
over the white stars.