The rocking horse stares through the dim light
Into his memories; as a lone tear falls from a crystal eye.
An inquisitive house spider is his only companion now;
But it’s only an occasional visitor.
The remains of ten thousand yesterdays cover
His wooden frame; hugging him close in suffocating permanence.
In the silver glint of moonlight he sometimes catches sight
Of the rag doll; sitting alone in a far corner.
She has no friends at all;
Even the house spider passes her by.
Her pretty red dress long since stained by the hands of time.
But even the comfort of weeping is denied her;
Her blue glass eyes lost for ages.
To become trinkets in some magpie’s nest.
The golden carriage clock stands impatiently on a ledge high above;
Ankle deep in the debris of a sea of time.
His friendly face smeared by years of indifference.
He has not spoken for decades.
All he can do is witness the weeping of a lonely rocking horse.
