Funny how our anthropomorphis,
makes us read even empty benches in the park
as gathering, huddled, grouped together.
The metal stairs we used to sit on
are honeycombed in structure,
rigid and unyielding, they hold their empty
Once we wove the in-between,
spinning the cobwebbed lines across the gaps
in a crazy railway network map.
Funny how you leave a trace on space.
The silver, flattened grass whispers
that here (not long ago) someone lay.