Posted in Seat Sunday

“I must go in. The fog is rising”
Emily Dickinson

Night on the Bench

Surrounded by misty air
Missed the last fare
Sitting on the park bench
Wishing I had worn a trench
The eerie surroundings
Leaving my heart pounding
Not a soul in sight
On this mystical night
Wrapping my coat tighter
My mood getting lighter
I hear some noises
A car approaches
Finally, I have a ride!