The Bench In The Park

The bench in the park

I always saw the old man resting
on his favourite bench in the park.
He seemed tired with age
but his eyes took notice
of everything around him.
Contentment and peace
were mirrored in his face.
I sensed his inner happiness.

In spring and summer
I passed him on his bench,
exchanging a smile with him.
He had lived a long life.
What would his thoughts be
while resting on that bench,
good memories of old times,
surprise about these modern days?

Autumn came.
The bench was empty,
surrounded with fallen leaves.
No sign of my stranger.
I often walked past that bench,
which seemed to stare at me
emotionless.
I missed you, old man.

Now the season has changed,
covering my hopes with snow.
The lonely bench
is not giving any secrets away.
Goodbye, old man.
I miss the peace
of your contentment
in the winter of your life.

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