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
Companionship
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.
sensualism 