Across The Bench

In "Across The Bench," we step away from the noise of the world to sit alongside an author who finds the infinite in the ordinary. Much like a driver reflecting on the miles behind them, this poem captures the high-velocity shifts of life—from the "reinvented spring" of youth to the "forgotten December" of the end. It is a raw, rhythmic journey through the internal weather of a human life, proving that even when we are sitting perfectly still on a wooden park bench, we are traveling through everything.

sit on the wooden park bench

In a reinvented spring,

Hopping with joy

And the gifts of life,

With a blessed chest

And the sun as my witness.

I am whole,

And that is all.

I sit on the wooden park bench

In a sultry summer.

The sun has kissed my soul,

The ocean passes through my chest.

I love you until the sun rises

From the west and life is put to rest.

I sit on the wooden park bench

In a beloved November.

I feel my feet kick a ball

With my friends in the midst of fall.

I want to forever be a kid,

Even for the highest bid.

I sit on the wooden park bench

In a forgotten December.

The cold shakes me dry,

All my bones remember.

My soul, I can hear, cry

As daylight fades from the sky.

I am the common grounds, I have no bounds