Bench / Stolen Night
A cop sat on a bench with himself
One from the past
One from the future
Both believed they were someone else
Struggling with the last
Trial they endured
Both with a gun wed to waist
Giving some safety
Others separation
Both considered where they would bury
Ideas of good guys
And of bad guys
Their gun in the earth with sewn seeds
Better to shoot life
Into a shell
They knew that we were fired at birth
From blood to bones
Branch to burdock
Our first breath connecting to our last
Like a linen
Covered throne
Better to patrol for finding worth
For the connected
Part of us
Within others and in themselves
The hidden vital
Force we trust
(Bench)
Somewhere between your home
And a place you’ve never been
On sands tainted
With rusty pine needles
Your friends ask you
To take their picture
You sit halfway between
Reality and a dream
You countdown
As clocks tick between
Your eyes are half open
The sun shines bright
As the day is long
As a a stolen night
You raise your phone
Pretend to take
Their picture
You click the screen
Say, “all good”
Sit down and sleep
Posted using Partiko iOS
Image source: https://unsplash.com/@blindspaceproduction
Excellent work on this poem that's incredible !
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