Why do you sit alone
In the medium
Atlanta traffic buzzing by
Were you abandoned
Are you cheap
Are you old
Broken wooden bench
On your head yesterday
I had thought to visit you
To see if you had any worth
I wondered if you were whole
A busy highway
No place to stop safely
The risk didn’t seem justified
The prospect not apparent
Today you’re sitting up
Someone else was hungrier
I see now that you’re injured
A reason to be left
Or maybe wounded by neglect
Not loved enough to go back for
Your left joint is fractured
A critical blow to your function
You were left again
Are you there now
In the dark
Being wondered at
By passing lights
Alone in the night, slouching
sideways in the grass
Your ailing finish damp with mist
Lasting another day
Only to be seen
Broken wooden bench
Will I see you tomorrow
In the morning
Will I ask myself again
If you’re worth a closer look
Or will I drive on like the others
Hoping the city does their job
Does what they’re paid to do
Deal with this rubbish
Keep it out of sight
You’re a reminder that things end
Nothing stays nice forever
That time is being spent fast
A picture of things to come
The prophecy of consumption
That would have us all
In its own way
A thief is at the door
Come to take our strength
Cast us out
To display our lack
Before the world
Those no longer able
Are not wanted, or needed
The same that loved us
Will leave us.
Broken wooden bench.
I make a promise on my bed
With pity in my heart
And protest on my lips
I’ll scoop you up tomorrow
If I see you.
I’ll make a place for you
Seek your repair
And restore your gift
You’ll be more than before
When I tell a story
To those in my home
That find comfort in your service
That I found you
And felt
Broken wooden bench.
