Her Special Bench
You'll find her on her special bench,
On every sunny day,
In the park that is quite near her home
Where children run and play.
We can only guess why she comes here
To sit on her bench alone.
Is she remembering when she brought
Small children of her own?
Did she sit on this her special bench,
To watch her brood with pride?
It's growing late, she grabs her cane
And hobbles back inside.
She sits beside her silent phone,
Knowing well it never rings.
She thinks about her Bess and Joe,
Small angels now with wings.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2013
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