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I saw it
In the park,
Lying
On its back
Like
An old man
Sleeping
On the grass.
Perhaps
It fainted
In the sun
Because
Its wooden ribs
Were pale
And warped-
So wracked with
Time
They hardly fit
The painted frame.
I remember it,
Though,
From better days
When I would share
My evenings
In its lap.

I wonder,
Did it finally
Topple
On its own
Beneath
Tired birds
Singing
In the trees
At the end of
Day,
Or
Was it
The silent
Victim
Of a needless
Crime:
A senseless
Mugging
In a park
Gone grey?

I
Do not come
Here
Often
Anymore
And
I may never
Come
Again-
The dreams
I hid
So carefully
On the bench
Are damaged
Now
And difficult
To read.
And
Since
There is
No longer
Anywhere
To sit,
There is
No reason
To pretend
They ever
Mattered.