The Bench

by Voyageur Solitaire-mladjenovic_n / flickr

Is this the bench onto which an old couple crumbles,
To rest their battered soles?

Does a disgruntled girl stub out her red-rimmed filters
On its fine ironwork,
Her cloak of hostility
An affront to its delicacy?

How many passers-by shrug away to avoid stains of rust,
Oblivious as their dogs
Relieve themselves
At its feet?

Have there been more proposals than ultimatums here?
More stolen kisses than forgotten mittens?

Beyond the decay,
Through the decay,
In the decay –
Love.

The bench was just one of many, in its newest, shiny state.
Only now, scarred by time, does it reveal its uniqueness.
Who are we to walk by without seeing what it has to offer?

What would happen if we sat down,
Still,
And stayed for a while?

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12 Comments

  1. rich. full. lovely. beautiful, emma.

    • Julie: Thanks, chica!! It’s always nerve-wracking to be entirely whimsical and poetical. The Censor has a field day. But I ignore it ;)

  2. you should totally ignore The Censor, that was wonderful. Truly.

    • Mrs. M: Thanks, chica. I’m learning to ignore it, but it’s definitely a process!

  3. I agree. Ignore The Censor. Gorgeous words for a stunning photo.

    • Alana: Don’t you just ADORE this photo?!? I swoon every time I look at it. xo

  4. Peregrine John

     /  June 22, 2010

    *sigh*

  5. Oh my goodness, that was so powerful. I kind of want to cry because it just embodies life in totality. Get rid of that censor because if you can write and think like this…wow.

    • Susan: Hee hee, you have me blushing. Thank you for such kind words, my friend. I truly appreciate them. But the credit I think must go to the photographer, who provided the tool through which inspiration and creativity arrived.

  6. The photo. The post. Both are spectacular. I love storied pieces. And you.