A Bench in a Desolate Field.
The grass sways gently in the breeze,
The trees, in sets of threes, are the only shade around.
Across the field of grass.
Between two clusters of oak trees,
Sits a swinging bench.
Sits a lonely bench.
It has no one to accompany it.
It has no person to swing on it.
All it has is little gusts of wind,
and piles of leaves.