Kimberly Dixon Harris
The Wooden Bench
My bench is made of the finest wood matter.
People walk by and look at me as if I’m no good.
I watch to pick out the one that looks like Robin Hood.
Hey Mr., can you please spare some of your baked goods?
My clothes are little tattered.
But my spirit is no longer battered.
Nor are any of my bones shattered.
I’ve chosen to wear my clothes a little tattered.