 |
| "Time-Out" by Ella Wilson |
I hope this bench is here when we are old
We'll rest when we grow tired from our walk
We'll reminisce of all the times we've strolled
These very streets as we watched life unfold
Or maybe we'll just hold hands and not talk.
*
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen
