Written for:  The Twiglets #143 – “a weathered bench”

weary old woman
rests on a gray weathered bench
color of thick fog

Ancient maple tree hung
over a weathered bench
in the park. When tree
was cut down, bench splintered
into sawdust.

Faded green bench
in the playground
covered in hearts
and initials, carved
into its facing. Where
are those people now?

A young mother from Massachusetts
had a daughter who was a nuisance.
The girl had no respect
hammered benches ’til wrecked
Mom, enraged wanted change, but had lost blueprints.

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