On the Park Bench

On the park bench at the monument
commemorating self-sacrifice
when the rescuer also drowned
The voice of a woman with a black eye
Every time I go down he gives me one.


The man beside her looks away
toward wherever he wishes to be. Anywhere.
And I walk on for days, imagining
the colours of hurt I have caused
by a misplaced word. Or none at all.

Gregory M. Cook
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