Bench on the South Bank

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short poem about an evening sat on a bench, on the South Bank of the Thames. There's another piece in the works based on the same event, but in prose (which I'm better at), so, if you're interested, keep your eye out for it.

Submitted: January 07, 2013

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Submitted: January 07, 2013




Sat at that bench,

Our throne of wood,

At midnight.

The leering aristocracy,

Across the river,

In their palace,

On thrones of green leather.


We should never have made it there,

But we did, individually,

And converged, at that time,

To share that instance,

Devised by fate,

Which was predetermined to happen,

And was always going to be

So subtly remarkable.


The two of us,

Sat at our bench,

Not belonging, together.


No more.

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