Sighs on the Bench

He's just a decrepit geezer.
With white hair, glasses, and an always present cane, he journeys to the bench everyday.
His frail, pruned body walks slowly the path into the park.
He turtle-walks ten feet...just ten, not eleven, and stops.
He slowly breathes in and out and sits on the first bench.
He smiles delightfully at the playing children.
He sits ten seconds...just ten, not eleven, and slowly rises to his feet and starts on the path again.
He walks another ten feet, just ten, not eleven, and stops.
He breathes in and out and sits on the second bench.
He smiles delightfully at the mothers.
He sits ten seconds, just ten, not eleven, and slowly again rises to his feet and starts on the path again.
He follows this same pattern for the third bench, this time smiling at the fathers.
Again he rises and places his frail body at the fourth bench to rest.
He smiles at the other geezers in the park.
He stays at the fourth bench awhile longer, mustering up the remaining strength he had.
He stood, leaving his cane near the fourth bench.
He doesn't smile at anyone around him.
He walks ever slowly with a deep limp, keeping his eyes only on the fifth bench.
He finishes walking the ten feet between the benches.
He stops in front of the fifth bench. His eyes light up.
He turns his body and sits down, right beside his beloved.
He grins largely, like a little boy and finally lets out a loud sigh.
He smiles at his beloved again.
--
Everyday he walks the park's path.
Everyday he stops at every bench to rest.
Everyday he smiles at everybody.
Everyday he sees his beloved and smiles.
Everyday he sits on the fifth bench and sighs.
Everyday.