 |
Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
|
||||
| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:20:09 AEST | ||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
Array
(
[sid] => 117645
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Nature Walk
[time] => 2006-04-03 17:49:25
[hometext] => I know this is longer, but it's very different from a lot of the other stuff I write and comments would be really appreciated.
[bodytext] => Sitting on a park bench watching the pigeons have their midday snack The tolling of the church bells let me know I have twenty minutes. It shouldn't take more than that because I've been here everday for the last two months watching everyone and everything. The brown paper sack sits in my lap and today I am ready. I bet no one's expecting this I spot a cop car across the street but even that doesn't bother me. Besides he's preoccupied with giving a ticket to a car that's overstaying its welcome. Only fifteen minutes now. I better hurry up. But there's this little girl seating herself next to me. At first I am unconcerned nothing will stop me from doing it. Then she starts talking about the pigeons (I'm wishing for a pellet gun) "I've never seen so many," she says I stare straight ahead but she needs no encouragement "I'm staying with my grandmother she's dying in the hospital" I offer no response and she goes on but I don't say stop or tell her to shut up. I pretend not to listen about her grandmother and how she doesn't have long to live. This girl is sharing the experiences of her days so her grandmother doesn't go insane from white walls and too hard beds. She picked this park because she always sees this lady sitting on this bench feeding the pigeons I don't tell her I've never fed pigeons in my life. Instead I just look at her and wonder. Then abruptly she stands up and says, "I've got to go," and walks off. The church bells toll and I've run out of time. I'm late for work. I put the brown paper sack in the trash can upsetting the pigeons as I go. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 205 [topic] => 43 [informant] => twick [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
|
Menu
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©
Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster
All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com
All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.
Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com