Lessons Unlearned

On a park bench, they smile with grace,

aged fingers entwined, love’s warm embrace.

Yet in their laughter, I catch a glimpse,

a truth so heavy, I sink like a prince.

Wishing I’d known how to cherish the small,

how moments count most, in the end, after all.

Their glances are lessons—like secrets unrolled,

in the folds of their hands, stories quietly told.

To grasp what’s essential before it slips by,

I learn late in life, beneath the deep sky.

With shadows of love, I tread a fine line,

replaying the moments, wishing to find.