NEW POETRY

It is 12.03, early afternoon.
The man in the park takes another
swig from his can, and tells everyone
in hearing distance to enjoy every second.

He is having a good time of it,
but everyone else looks uncomfortable,
their lunch time break tainted, as they walk by.
It is only luck that means we can pass,
and think, there but for the grace of God, go I.

Ben Macnair is an award winning poet and playwright from Staffordshire in the United Kingdom. Follow him on Twitter/X @benmacnair.