A Porch Song

The quiet chatter of those who know the knocks of years
And laugh with wonder that they have survived
The slings and arrows hurled their way;
And in the field they have even thrived
If the tales they utter are but half true.
They fully understand the clock runs down
And each ticking tock they will imbue
With life’s timid vibrancy to the end.

Only birds and cows were witness there
To harmless souls in friendship’s flight;
And if they drank too much and chortled loud,
Their grins were wide with eyes alight.
The aches, the scars are nothing then;
The pain and tears that carved their flesh
Are softened by the singing wren
Whose cheerful song says rejoice, live on.