My old ones

 They sat in darling park

something finite wrapped around my spine

on the side of the hill

under twilight lodge

At a picnic table next to the duck pond 

they look out across the small pond with one or two ducks

blue green faces white striped necks

swimming in a slow constant push over the surface

This calmed the old ones

They weren't looking for pity

But they had been waiting there

 in that dimension for a thousand years

Just sitting exchanging gestures

interlocking fingers

feeling the wind

for eternities

I could see them from the lost forest

The area I have been trudging around in

millions of light years away