The vacant bench in the park

Awaiting someone

Whose footsteps

Were, but now gone

The empty clothesline

Lying still

No more fluttering winds

Entangled among the cloth fine

The bare tree

Its leaves even in spring

Lay molted at its feet

Forming a filigree

I see emptiness

Where ever I look

I wish you were here

Nestled in my arm’s crook….

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I stood on the rickety bridge Watching the morning mist lift To reveal beauty unbound Of the wild flowers abound Bursting with passion, in yellows and violet Around their mate, the stream coquette Twi

I took the road Not knowing where it would lead Trusting it fully And ready to heed It took me through woods Calm and serene It showed me lakes And meadows green At times it welcomed me With carpets o