STORY
Encounter on a Park Bench
And what lives on in the heart
Sitting on a park bench beside a broken walkway lamp, he could hear the children’s laughter as they danced gaily on the wet lawn. Seabirds called out somewhere overhead. He had not felt the passing cold shadows of the typical billowy clouds this time of year. It was still Winter, but the sun was doing its best to thaw the frozen inhabitants below. The touch of the air’s cold fingers on his cheeks contrasted with the warmth of the sun — an odd feeling but a welcomed one.
Once an old park bench stood strong,
Weathered by time’s unrelenting song,
Blinded by the sun’s heat and might,
It silently watched the changing light.
Loneliness etched in its wooden grain,
Different from the bustling park lane,
Fear of ageing creeping into its heart,
Afraid to be forgotten, a world apart.
