Leonard's Butterscotch

Mike Denison (Lumberfork)

A night hawk sings. A church bell rings. Echoes flood the night.
A stillness tides past the languids of the park. Then you shuffle by.
Beneath your mack, though there is no rain, your eyes catch mine for a while.
You stop, I suppose to see I’m okay. I try to smile.

Oh, sit with me for a spell. Please give your feet a rest.
If you want to stay and talk about your day, take a candy, or cigarette.

Just look past these wrinkled eyes, eroded by age and sin.
Don’t see the disdain, self-loathing or pain. Just see a friend.

O, sit with me for a spell. Please give your feet a rest.
If you want to stay and talk about your day, take a candy, or cigarette.

Oh. No, that’s fine. Next time I guess.