Three Rocking Chairs

From a low branch of a willow tree A newly painted sign was hung. The old farmhouse back of the willows Looked on with troubled eyes at this outrage, With its gaudy printing, “Furniture and Antiques for Sale.” Out of doors on the stoop, Three empty rocking chairs Swayed lightly in the gentle breeze. How easily one could picture three women Rocking and chatting together. Now and then the chairs ceased rocking As though some bit of gossip Had been discussed. From an upstairs window in the ell Two unstarched curtains hung limp and pathetic. No smoke came from the wide chimney; A lone crow stalked around the yard Then stood by the well, awkwardly plucking At a frayed strand of rope. Across the bay the sunset gilded the scene, And illuminated the small gable windows. The wind ceased, the sea was calm, But on the stoop Three chairs still rocked.