The Park Bench

Today I sat on a park bench watching and waiting 

People passed by on the street without looking up

I wondered why the ground was so interesting.

One child dared glance up at my gaze

A smile was in her eyes 

The breeze blew a crumpled paper to my feet.

I almost didn’t look to see what was hidden there

Smoothing the battered sheet displayed

A beautiful drawing… too imperfect for its mortal maker

Later I walked down the street

A man was sitting on a park bench watching and waiting 

I looked up at him with a smile in my eyes

His eyes smiled back

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