Sometimes we'll pass by in a hurry when we really should stop for a while.... I saw him one day on a bench in a street throwing bits of stale bread to a bird at his feet. A glint in his eyes and a cap on his head he would smile at the bird as it pecked at the bread. So I sat for a while and we talked of his life of the days long ago, of his work, of his wife; They had raised seven children though two girls had died And he told of the tears that his late wife had cried. But life had moved on as it does at a pace And the heartaches and joys all wrote lines on his face Now he sits on a bench in a street every day And throws bread to the birds as time whittles away. © 2016 Jason Endfield
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July 2023
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