RSM0812

The Bench

Upon a bench I sit and wait,

Beside the lonely stranger,

Our eyes they meet,

Then stare to ground.

Like two dogs in a manger.

At last he lights a smoke,

And with a witty joke.

Remarks about the dusty blue.

I partook in his smoky truth,

So calm so couth.

As we laughed at simple truths.

What a day and what men do.

He cried all through and through.