A Bit of Bread

Folder: 
Vintage Words

.
It was Sunday after church
and the park was near empty
the park bench looked
lonely, so I took a seat.

.

I had scraped the table
of bread crumbs this morning
and rushed out cramming
the toasted bread in my
pocket.
.
There are always birds,
even in winter. As solitary
as the bench I watched
the stranger approach
and sit.
.
It was inauspicious. He
was non-descript. We talked
until we were too cold
to keep our frozen fingers
secret.
.
Twenty-eight years later,
talking of grandchildren
arriving more frequently
we have come to think of
the solitary bench
in the park opposite
the church
as ours.
.
allets

02-24-13
5:58p

 

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