PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

   A cold wooden bench on

   An autumn day in the park

   Afternoon, then....almost evening

   I am not sure if this is my favorite time to ever be living

   But what we are given, we are given

   There is a chill in the air

   Sharp but welcome

   It stings my cheek a bit

   I look up

   And

   Deep crimson streaks cut through

   The sky's dying blue

   And all is perfect

   For a moment.

   The park becomes the entire universe

   Utterly empty

   A clear, limitless space

   And I am at the absolute center

   And I can see all of creation at once

   And it is good

   Then

   That second ends.

   I still sit on the bench

   Silently

   Watching the unique dance of the leaves.