On a Park Bench Watching Leaves

They float and twist and turn then drop and fall, Then rise again as winds lift them Like the ebb and flow at the water’s edge To watch becomes hypnotic, The dance of the fallen leaves, A dance that has been danced for years, A marriage of elements Then the unequalled party’s gate crashed, As children come like bouncers and break the fun, Kicking and throwing the leaves about, Then leaving So the party can begin again.

I watch as a greying man sits, He watches the leaves and is lost in his thoughts, The leaves do not form miracles, But entertain like jesters,

The man sits still and he listens, To the silence around him intently, The leaves carry on yet he, Seems unaware of anything.

To him a pin drop could be heard, And three seconds seems like forever He watches the leaves with interest, But slowly they fly away.

Everything continues around him. Yet he sits on that bench without care. Just a small breath to show he’s alive. Just a brief smile to show he’s still there

He is lost deep in his own thoughts, And there’s no map to let others in, But the man’s not alone and not frightened, He just sits there with a knowing grin.

The world still carries on, As it has for millions of years, And the insignificance of this moment, Won’t be lost in a gallon of tears.

On a park bench watching leaves.