A Walk In the Park
This old wood bench feels splintered
as does the old gentleman beside me.
Strong enough to hold us both however
in our conversation as afternoon fades.
Cannot turn away from the kindness
in his eyes as I gently stroke his craggy face.
I crush a handful of fragrant flowers and offer
them to my sweet grandfather.
written by Deb Wilson
for Sense Of Touch contest
9/1/2015
Copyright © Deb Wilson | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment