PARK BENCH
A tree, well planks of a tree,
met two other parts of itself
that were separated some 87
years ago. All three were
washed ashore - resting
almost on top of each other -
on a rocky beach covered
with seaweed and brine.
What are the odds of that happening?
“Hey, I thought that was you -
and you too after all these years.
Where have we been all this time?
I’ve often wondered what
happened to the rest of us.”
“Me too!”
“Me too!”
“Oh,” said the bench plank. “I’m sure
I had the most interesting life. I’m sure
I heard the most there is to hear -
about how life has been for so many
people. Park benches hear the best
of stories. I guarantee you that.”
“Nope,” said this solid piece of
dark, dark stained wood. I guarantee
both of you that I have heard the
best of stories. I was part of a bar.”
The third piece of wood remained
very quiet - till finally the other two
pieces demanded to know what it
did with his life.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Well, if I could tell you, I’m sure
you’d both agree I heard the best
of stories - with tears as well.”
“What do you mean, you can’t
tell us anything? That’s a cop out.”
“Well, I guess neither of you are
Catholic, because then you
Catholic, because then you
would have heard of the seal
of confession - confession boxes -
and that they are made of wood.”
© Andy Costello, Reflections 2017