They stopped to talk when they noticed him
He always sits there
Has done for years
Maybe he likes the spot
No, it’s tragic
Pray tell
Well, i don’t actually know
I Think his wife died there
You think
Yes, my mother told me when i was a child
Told you what
Told me something tragic had happened
But you don’t know what
Well, you don’t ask
Why don’t you ask
You don’t impose in peoples grief
Everybody knows that
Is he grieving
Of course he’s grieving, it’s obvious
It’s curious, not obvious
One way to find out though
You’re not going to ask him
I am
The story
I sit here everyday
For everyday the scene changes
Today i see a couple across from me
Other days, it maybe a jogger, dog walker, children playing.
Sunshine, rain, gales, snow
I will go home and paint that scene
It will always be different
And with a twinkle in his eye, he laughed
I may even have painted you as a child out with your mum
The ice was broken
My mum always brought me here
She would love it to think someone had painted us
They spoke in length
A stroll in the park had changed her life
The visit to her mum was extra special
She had a special gift.