I’m sorry;

said the stooped man

to the other (who was weeping)

Don’t be; said the

weeping man

my predicament is mine

They came across

each other on the

pathway – enticing


and friendship –

humanity’s design

They sat on the bench

that day – that day

with sunshine gleaming

As the one

he asked the other

for directions to his home

They looked sideways

they looked straight –

their brow was furrowed – it 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 (those freckles)

so few – and so tiny –

but they grew so quickly

and in number and in kind

Larger – ever larger –

like a memory of time.

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