Everywhere there is beauty
Then, from time to time
One steps into a quiet place
Where the light shines less brightly
Of course, by now
I choose not, that is, not on purpose
To visit the darkness too too often
But you know, love, love will have its way
Just as the moss grows
On the tarmacadam path
And the discarded leaves rot
Beside the forsaken branches
Could I just say, that there is room for two
On this fine, and sturdy, bench
Constructed from concrete and oak
Fixed to the floor with galvanised brackets
You may sit here, to listen to the river
Also to absorb the aircraft noise from overhead
Which may once well have transported you
Back to the place of your birth
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