It was there when the middle child returned
After announcing she was running away from home...
She only made it to the end of the block with her suitcase packed,
Then promptly returned to find her mother waiting.
It sat and patiently helped her to sleep,
Listening to the stories her mother told of Two Boots, the Cat
Over and over again.
It waited for the day that child had a child of her own.
And without missing a beat
Found its rhythm again
It rested quietly in the room by the foothills for 20 plus years.
Seldom used over that time,
But not forgotten by those it comforted in the past.
It unexpectedly departed to a new home...
It would never know that the middle child shed tears
As she fondly remembered the gentle ways
Of her mother's black, wooden rocking chair.
Good bye, sweet companion.