January 9, 2009

POEM- The Old Bench

Wood worn to a sheen,
smooth as skin,
Gathering heat from my hand.

This bench their retreat
from decades of living the world.
Together.

A word, a song, a look.
They know each other
like a tree knows the soil in its roots.

They know, 
it will end like this.

GNB - 2009

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Aspenglow / Buttered Lips by Gayle Nabrotzky is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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