You’ll find me everywhere you go
From mountains high to valleys low
And in your haste from A to B
My resting place you fail to see.
But there are times you take a break
Relaxing in the change of pace
When you stop to take a photograph
Of ancient walls and epitaphs.
Those are the moments, at ease and alone,
You answer my call to your weary bones.
As you rest your eyes on a foreign scene
Your thoughts escape to a village green
To a culture and language you understand
To a bench like me in your native land.
Jean Reinhardt 2015
Jean Reinhardt 
Reblogged this on ONEWORLD.
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Many thanks for the reblog.
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A great mix of poetry and photography!
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Thank you Dave, I have a thing about empty benches, I photograph them whenever I see them. I was going to do a blog about it, but changed my mind and wrote the poem instead. It’s not very deep, just a bit of light verse. 🙂 It probably comes from when we were living in Spain and I felt a bit homesick.
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I think, in this case, that a poem works better with the photographs than a blog post. And your photos, Jean, are very evocative — of “home,” of solitude, and more.
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