A poem by Rico Provasoli.

Bench in the park by Andreas Brun

the park grows cold early
in the December afternoons,
even as children scream
playfully and their dogs bark.

the old men have long
since left the park benches,
the evening chill gets to
their bones, arthritis flaring.

if they can make it
past the winter equinox,
they tell themselves
as they hobble back home,

everything will be all right
and they hope to do better
at enjoying the banter
in the playground.

like a festival of light,
Jupiter and Saturn
brighten the horizon
in the faded twilight.

Featured image by Andréas Brun on Unsplash

Rico Provasoli

Rico Provasoli is a writer, published author and accomplished sailor.

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