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
Donโ€™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
ย 
-HTJ

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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.

ยฉ Hilde Therese Juvodden, MyStoriesWithMusic, 2019. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this siteโ€™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. โ€“ Simply donโ€™t steal my stuff ๐Ÿ˜Š 

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