People pass by me,
&nbsp;&nbsp; from all&nbsp;&nbsp;every direction
even in winter snow.

From exhausted firemen, 
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;expectant mothers,
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; forgotten children,
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; marathon sprinters.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Even grumbling men carrying heavy, ancient computer printers.

Each have their share and take their turn on me, the local sheltered, secluded 
seat.
Even if only for a deep breath and a break or a little body 
heat.
&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
&nbsp;&nbsp; Bags and books, all sorts of things have been dropped or left on me, proposals have even happened here, you 
name it. 
If you don't believe it, come see for yourself and 
frame it.