On a Bench by the Waters of Oblivion by E. Samples

I sit beside you, stranger
And wait
A once-filled mind
My black sunflower seeds
Now half sown

Introductions are necessary 
I’m terrible with names
We met before, you say
The hillside, sanctuary 
Classroom, dinner table
Creek—
To name a few

Muted voices
Screen-strained loneliness
Anxiety and doubt
Windows shuttered
I drain the glass and wipe
Water droplets from my mouth

I don’t answer you, stranger
And think
One final static loop
The taste of forgetting
Gray distorts to golden
Summer symphony

You smile
Do I sense sadness
You say, it’s ok
We always meet again

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E. Samples was born and raised in Appalachia and currently lives in Southern Indiana. Her writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Vamp Cat Mag, fws: a journal of literature & art, Black Bough Poetry, The Stillwater Review, and The Honest Ulsterman. She is on Twitter @emilysamples and Instagram @eesamples