The bench is empty.

Only memories and dreams.

Hollow shell-which I've grown.

We all must walk a path.

Fated some, others to the wind.

Yet time and chance afflicts all.

Tears are only a prop of the stage.

Like the brown leaves above.

Melting back into time.

Children play like our shadows.

Hey ,"OLD MAN", lets run.

Shed things of time's passage.

Memories are the play ground today.

Soon they will fade like the sunset.

Then oblivion of all repose.