Bonds
The wood bench
Had weathered
In its stationary
State
Upon it scratches, nicks
Engraved names and
Initials
Old peanut shells
Signatures left
Idle now
As the carousel
Horses that once
Went round and round
It beckoned an
Old man some refuge
To rest and sit down
For a while
Like broken branches
That cling before
They fall
The old park bench
Gave comfort again
And as the sun
Began to set
Two silhouettes
Blended so well
By Lorraine Stark
