I’m sorry;

said the stooped man

to the other (who was weeping)

Don’t be; said the

weeping man

my problems are my own

They came across

each other on the

pathway that entices


and friendship – yes

humanity had grown

They sat upon

the bench on that day

with sunshine in it

As the one

asked the other

for directions to his home

They looked sideways

then straight ahead

their furrowed brow was showing

Were they where they

should be – or in

a place known as ‘unknown’

Their frown turned to

confusion – they knew

not what they would find

Like the freckles

on their hands that

became too hard to hide

They started out –

(so few and so tiny)

but grew in number and in kind

Larger – ever larger –

like a memory of time.

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