Stanzas: Monthly Chapbooks September 2014: The First | Page 15

The weary mother who used to ‘rest the auld bones’ as she passed;
All gone now.
Gone.
She almost sheds a tear as you watch her,
A breeze, like a whispered
Sigh
Her breath,
Weak and anguished.
Go to her,
Share a calm embrace.
What is a park bench with no one to warm her?
Let her hold you,
Mayhap tell her a story.
Don’t leave her lonely.
Don’t leave her.
Abandoned.

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