An old friend

She had been sitting there 
 for a while
 You always come here alone
 It whispered
 She had been crying
 It knew
 Sitting there alone
 On that bench
 Don’t you have someone to talk to 
 It tried 
 It had never liked tears
 Rain without purpose 
 It thought  

 All the little pink ones
 Standing around her
 Almost covering her
 It was proud of the small ones
 They had grown so much 
 If the wind blew hard 
 It would tell them to lean towards it 
 Find shelter 
 When the wind was strong 
 It would call them children 
 Gather children 
 It would whisper 
 It really would

She turned her head
 Looked up 
 at its strong branches
 Covered in pink
 An old tree
 Could have been there forever 
 for all she knew
 Those little pink trees 
 trying to reach just as high 
 She dried her tears 
 And smiled 
 For the first time
 In a long time
 No, I knew you were listening
  
 -HTJ

If you like the images that have been used to illustrate this poem, they are from morguefile.com. All the photos have been edited, but the first, second and fourth photo is by MarceloCoimbra, and third photo is by rosevita, the fifth photo is by farny.

© Hilde Therese Juvodden, MyStoriesWithMusic, 2019. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Hilde T. Juvodden and MyStoriesWithMusic with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. – Simply don’t steal my stuff 😊