More Promptly Poetry PPC 5 and PPC 6

The Bench

Does the sun still play on the water
while tadpoles dart in the shallows?
Do the ripples trip over
the same pebbles
speckled black and white
that you gathered by the handful?

Saturdays,
we returned the bottles for change
nickels enough for a pink-frosted donut
speckled with sprinkles
and a bag of bread
to feed the ducks.
The geese were demanding,
honking disapproval
when the food ran out,
chasing us to the car.

Our bench is still there,
the concrete cold, wet with dew
on this spring morning.
A blue heron watches silently
then, in an instant, is gone
with the memories.


Written for "Promptly Poetry Challenge (2025-2026)" 

Week 23
PROMPT
Image of a bench by a pond/lake