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their time is now
faces as old and wrinkled as their clothing
a metered gait adjusted to combined needs
gnarled hands held, as always, in support
the sun welcomes their warm-faced smiles
sounds of children in the distance amuse them
an old dog sidles up in search of a pat
the old park bench waits patiently
there is no hurry – their time - is now
Copyright ©
John Lawless
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