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Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Rik George writes

Park Encounter

I watched you pass my bench, 

smiling sidelong at me, 
many times before 
you stopped to talk with me. 
The wind tousled your hair 
and pressed your shirt against 
your muscular pecs and abs. 
My pulse swelled in my throat 
so I mumbled my reply. 
You looked up at jets 
writing vapor answers on the sky. 
and nodded as though you’d decided 
something. You smiled, excused 
yourself, and walked away. 
I’ve waited on my bench 
every day since then, 
but you haven’t walked this way.
Image result for park bench paintings
Man Sitting On A Park Bench -- Ernst Ludwig Kirchner

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