Lining paths across our commons
facing out to sea,
offering the fatigued mass a
place at once to be.
To all a seat of comfort
but it can be more,
loved ones gone but not forgotten
by the sandy shore,
on top of hill tops in the downs
in parks and cemeteries,
around town squares, in beer gardens
beneath wheezing trees.
For me a chance to glance surroundings
whilst others share discourse,
sweet nothings shared amongst laughter
before the strained divorce.
By Dominic