Sitting On A Park Bench

Sitting on a park bench contemplating life
good and bad and sometimes in strife,
sometimes a smile, followed by a frown
on it goes hour after hour.
Look at sandwiches interest ebbs
feed the pigeons, a voice suggests,
become aware of company sitting
turn to look a smile beckons,
ask a name eyes so piercing
hand touches shoulder
coldness flows right through.
Try to speak, voice has deserted,
company waves their hands
scenes appear, I am there
childhood, parents, friends appear.
Gone in a flash a slideshow of life
tears and happiness now engulf,
holding hands, then company disappears
Imagination running riot.
hands reaching out where others held them
quickly place hands by side
afraid that others will see a crazy
however, it is not me.
Enough of this entire dream sequence
I stand to leave this park bench of memories,
hand once again touches on the shoulder
I shudder and turn to see the intruder
stranger stands with hand held out
reach to shake without any doubt.
Gone, GONE, no one there
come back, COME BACK, and tell me your name.
I hang my head but not in shame
echo drifts across the breeze
on with life, smile and frown
all accepted without question.
Walk away spring in step
start again, tomorrow beckons.

by John A'Hern

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