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