Sidney Beck Poet Narrative

Benched

BENCHED


Two old men shuffle by
Grey, anonymous, stooped,
Thinking of days gone by
When the world was simpler, sunnier, 
Life was easier  when they were stronger:
The days were longer,  when they were younger.

Finding a park bench  with only a pigeon occupant
Their tired search is over
And cigarettes are soon  glowing in the fading light of sunset
And worn-out legs are spread
Over the dusty gravel.

Smoke comforts their memories, bench comforts their legs, 
Chat comforts their lone lives  -  stripped of family, friends,
Strength, sight, dignity.

The cigarettes slowly dim,  and the dark park

Closes for the night.

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Vicky Tsiluma May 25, 2012 at 5:25 AM "The cigarettes slowly dim.." It gives the sense of looming death. Sad but inevitable. Nice descriptions Sidney!

David Williams May 24, 2012 at 10:28 AM Sidney very descipitive of some people today..David

Nathan D. May 24, 2012 at 10:19 AM it always has to close doesnt it