03/13/2026
***From the vault***
I N T H E P A R K
An old couple sit on a park bench.
Watching children play
and remembering when their own
would frolic with boisterous shouts
and joy that only kids can achieve.
Hal remembers when they were young.
Him and Martha getting hitched.
That little house on 7th and Elm
and the dream of children
of raising a family.
How warm the days were then
unlike this bitter cold
settling in their bones.
In the park.
A ball rolls to his feet
As he rolls it back, a little boy smiles
and Hal feels the warmth he's missed.
For a moment at least.
So many dreams, aspirations.
It's not supposed to end like this.
They've become ghosts,
forgotten folks who merely exist.
Well Hal thinks, at least
they've got each other.
Martha's hand grows cold in his,
her eyes closed.
Hal looks up to the sky
says, "I'm ready Lord."
No reply.
No warmth.
Just his dead wife's cold hand.
The children's laughter sounds like demons
and the cold is unbearable.
He stumbles from the bench, panicked.
"Oh Hal?"
Martha wakes up, she is smiling.
The sun of their youth shining.
He extends a hand as a song
drifts into the park.
The children are gone.
The world has stopped.
Time for one last dance.
And they dance…in the park.
In love and almost young again.
"You are a good man, Hal",
she whispers in his ear.
"I love you, my dear".
His tears of joy are powerful
and he holds her tight,
in the park.
After dark when ghosts
can finally rest.
Hal blinks and he is alone
as the children laugh merrily
at the crazy old guy
dancing by himself in the park.
Looking at the bench.
Martha's eyes remain closed.
The dream that was once new,
once so full of love
of dancing hearts.
Has ended.
On a cold winter night.
In the park.
©️2023
Jimmy Ray Davis
Wordmachinist Publishing
All rights reserved.
Run time: 03:21
