Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Park

A summer day, the sun beating down
On a small park.
Shiny, but not new.

A glimmer in the child’s eye at the beautiful sight
Of a small park.
Bright and promising.

A fall wind blows hard
In a small park.
Cold and distant.

Children play, but the teen hides away
From a small park.
Boring and dull.

Snow piles higher and higher
Covering a small park.
Empty and sad.

The once child, now young adult, drives by,
Slowing as he passess a small park.
Longing but unreachable.

A winter day, the hidden sun casts darkness
On a small park.
Dark and oppressive.

The adult speeds by, glaring back
At a small park.
Resentful and sad.

The snow starts melting away
At a small park.
Optimistic and freeing.

The man and his wife stand across the way,
Looking at a small park.
Anxious but excited.

Spring in full swing opens its arms
To a small park.
Different, but the same.

A family man, different, but the same,
Sits in a small park.
Looking and smiling.

Summer comes once again
To a small park.
It always does, doesn’t it?