by Chris Lawrence
even the pigeons did not come
sandstone witness
to the empty bench,
he had fallen
been in hospital,
children fretted and nursed,
she had no one
almost homeless aged forgotten,
they spoke at the bench
smile with long memory
a life known and understood,
her smile of crooked dentures
and whiskery chin,
those eye still had reality and youth,
at eighty two it is hard
to find love was strange,
unusual to most people,
yet as hospital tubes gave sustenance
she had lain in her armchair
ragged flat
no gas fire
no tv
and lived in afterlife
found by police
through splintered door
it would be hard to explain
yet the bench remained
velvetmedia 