Sitting on the Porch - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

When I was a boy I didn’t understand why in the evenings old people liked to sit on the porch with a pipe or a cup of coffee, doing nothing:

Sitting on the Porch

Sitting on the porch, not thinking at all
About the rain dripping off the eaves
The old bird-dog dog dozing on the planks
The yapping puppy annoying the cats

Sharpening a pocketknife, not thinking at all
About boyhood, the war, marriage, children
That last letter from far away, the funeral
And has the coffee finished percolating

“Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord…” -
Sitting on the porch, not thinking at all