Sitting on the Fence
Like some decision sitting on a fence,
the day is cold, chilly, changing colors.
Alternately, snapping to attention,
it poses at the photographer’s bidding.
On the porch are two empty rocking chairs,
they moving idly back and forth as if
recording a mournful song of the day
that a dream, a desire faded away...
Like adolescents, some teenagers are
Of life’s mercurial moods, some hot, some cold~
some often unable to choose wisely...
Yet, there stands one, who, seemingly with
magic wand, persistently studies, works
to create life with developing gift~
Still, another asks, “What’s in store for me? ”
Comments about this poem (Sitting on the Fence by Jackie Allen )
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