An old street lamp
Two yellow lights
Hang dimly above
This engraved pole

Gas lamps replaced
With electric lights
He sits and rests
Against this tree trunk

Listens to friends
On this park bench
By the Willamette river
Whispering friendship

The yellow light
Casts a grey shadow
Of four bodies
Shade in the night

This tree has seen
Many friends sit
Some on the bench
Some closer

Today it remembers
The days when gas lamps
Did not exist

 

(Written in August 2016 while at WDS in Portland. Other pieces written during that week – here and here)