The view from underneath a park bench

I never want to live
Like the spaces under benches
That only see the hands disposing of chewing gum
And the muddy soles of shoes.
I want to see the world above them filled with
First kisses and
Giggles and
Whispers and
Old couples holding between their interlaced fingers,
The idea that maybe true love does exist.
Jars of dreams shatter into thin air
As the contents scurry away to instead fill boxes of memories.
I want to see the magic of the falling leaves and how
Each takes a different path,
Instead of only ever seeing
The places where they land and settle
For a split
Before they’re crushed.
I wish to see every moment from the top of the world,
Not from a spot where everything seems
To tower over me,
Shrouding me in shadows,
Only making me feel small.