The Park

He came here every day.

That secluded park where friendship blossomed into something else.

That lonely pew where fidelity was pledged.

He held his memories as sacred treasure

Under the spectral moonlight.

The landscape now as parched as is vitality

This would be his last call.

They'd shared their final libation.

He committed the cruet to the ground as a manifestation of what was.

A legacy of days passed.

Silently, he shuffled up the trail

With hopes to join her again.

Eyes closed, focused on the road untraveled.