When I was single, I lived in an apartment across the street from a park. The park was built several years after I moved into the apartment, and I liked it because it was shorter and more pleasant to walk through it to get to the YMCA and the library. There’s no traffic in the park, only sidewalks surrounding a fountain, playground, and other attractions. It’s always well maintained, even in winter.
Now that I’m married, I live in a different part of town. I don’t have many opportunities to walk through the park anymore, and I miss it. I wrote a poem about it which has just been published in Serendipity Poets of
Journal 2010. I’ll paste it below. Cheyenne
I walk along the smooth sidewalk.
My long white cane rolls from side to side in front of me.
There are no cars
but lush, green lawns, benches,
trees in the first stages of growth.
The scent of newly mown grass permeates the air.
I hear the cries of children, as they swing, slide, play in the fountain.
Its gurgle, inviting on a hot day,
provides a sense of peace.
I’d rather walk here than through the city streets.
Abbie Johnson Taylor
Author of We Shall Overcome