Branch Sitters Branch Sitters Three doves sit quietly in the morning sun on the battered old branch over my garden. They often keep so still it’s difficult to tell them from the gnarls and patterns of the branch, long weathered and pecked by woodpeckers and chewed by squirrels into an abstract pattern all its own. They remind me of the “bench sitters”, retired older men who, in good weather, sit on the benches along Main Street, quietly exchanging comments with each other now and then, happy enough for the quiet company of old friends. Share this:Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading... Related Post navigation Unexpected BerriesThe Promise Leave a ReplyCancel reply This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.