BENCH 

I feel the wind blowing cold towards me

I hear the bustle of the city around me

I hear the cars going past me on the street

I feel the cool metal of the bench under me

I see a coffee shop with people outside working

I see the people walk past me

I hear them talking amongst themselves

I hear the loud noise of a truck passing me 

I see the sun setting as the sky changes

The leaves in front of me are dead and are blowing away

The winds noise is omnipotent 

I hear a man playing the saxaphone 

he’s across the street

I feel the wind coming than subsiding

I feel the warmth of the bench under me

I see people unloading a truck

I hear it as it backs up