Lonely Park Day
Everyone seems to have someone,the team who shout and pass,
solitary people with canine companions,
partners linking arms and hands.
I see the lone man sit contemplating,
his stick leaning,
turn to talk to people passing by,
he's well known.
Even the birds are grouped or in pairs,
the five willows weep and whisper secrets,
the air strangely still,
I feel I am waiting for something.
Poetry by shells
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Written on 2016-04-06 at 18:42
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