She sat alone, staring out to sea,
Her face a picture of memory.
I softly approached and rested my arm
On the back of the bench, no wish to alarm.
I asked where she was in her thoughtful state,
She said reminiscing, no precise date.
We chatted and smiled, shared a laugh or two,
Turns out she’s a local resident too:
Walks along the prom several times a day,
Sits here on this bench, passing the hours away.
She lives in a flat, which has thirteen steps
Up to and down, ‘there’s no lift’, she said.
‘It keeps me active, exercises these,’
And grinned up at me, pointing to her knees.
Said she wouldn’t have it any other way,
This lady I stopped to talk to today,
Sitting there, alone on the bench
I thought of my Mum, and felt a wrench.
‘It’s hard on your own, there’s no company,
Though I’ve room should anyone stay with me.’
She shook my hand, hers was warm and dry,
And smiling, I wished her a cheerful goodbye.
I told her we walked the prom regularly,
Said we’d meet again, introduced Maggie and me.
‘Thanks for stopping today and saying Hi.
Most people ignore me and pass on by’.
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