This bench holds yesterday’s stories, and tomorrow’s unspoken truths.I guard it like a sentry, the protector of the youth. I’ve watched this waterfall splashand splatter every single day; I’ve winked at illegal skateboarders,smiled at children who skip and play. I cast freckled shadows across the groundand let myself dance within the breeze,when I finally landContinue reading “The Pinecone’s Story”
