I haven't really paid too much attention to the benches in my own area, but since we can't currently stop and sit at the moment on our daily walks, they stood out more to me, especially this one.
I sent this photo to a friend of mine, a very talented poet, Kate Moore, and also a great rock painter, and she returned with this poem:
‘The Bench’
We are where we are, and we cannot stop
Metres from others and that is our job
Breathing in air, making it last
Walking ahead, but not too fast.
Taking in hills but concerned about resting
Thinking of the rules and the news of home testing
Feeling the freedom of being outside
Simple liberties, now a joy ride.
We see a bluebell-encrusted bench
Surrounding the seat like a circular fence
One of beauty, one of pain
We cannot stop, so we move on again
We hear children laughing but we don’t stay
Because ours just wants to join in and play
We hold his hand and squeeze away
Soon, my child, but not today