What Mother Wrought

Lovers come to the bench.
The teenagers spy.
Ephemeral. Unmoving. Only their heads peek ’round the hedge.
None speak. They simply watch.
Tommy ponders the smoothness of women’s skin.
Annabelle enjoys the muscles rippled across men’s backs.
Susanne resents everything about the couples. Would stop them if she could.
For the siblings will never feel such things, make such sounds
or hear the words, “I love you.”
Suffocation should have put an end to anticipation and hope.
But, they feel the need to return. Night after night.
Year after year.
Century upon century.

Today’s Photo Prompt was provided by Liz Young