A park bench warped by time
lightened from its once deep rich tone
by an indifferent sun
ferry's an indigent on his way
The bench unforgiving while he dreams
his thought abated by the thin
bent wood beneath him
His interest caught by the
warm juice of a half-eaten apple
dripping from his hand
Bending slowly to meet the bench he sighs
as pricks of unkempt hair
and withered wood meet in time
one hand aiding his retreat-
In the other his life yet to eat
© Raymond t. Carter 1997
Saturday, August 30, 2008
A Park Bench
