The old rocking chair slowly rocked
Creaking softly in the dark
Outside an owl softly mocked
The fear in his heart
He lay stiff in desperation
Wrapped in the covers
Panicked respiration
Listening for others
Not believing in apparitions
The darkness eroding this non belief
Remembering stories and superstitions
That always end with grief
And still the chair rocks on and on
But no one sits therein
It’s passenger long dead and gone
But somehow lingering…