The Lone Bench

Thoughts, and then, my

Soliloquies

A tiring, exhilarating walk

I step on snow,

The lakefront, silent today

I feel like an adventurer

I want to run,

Throw my bag,

Drown my papers

And run some more

Into warm arms

To a gorgeous smile

To real love.

The black bench

Against the brown

And the snow

Stark trees

The sudden gust

Whispers to me.

This is real, or not.

The black bench

Will be stark too

The lone me,

Always that

The bench beside, empty,

Black.

I slip back to dreams

That have the warmth

Not the lone bench.

(Lake Michigan lakefront, on a lone black bench. Chicago, IL. December 03, 2008)