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AFTERNOON IN THE PARK
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Solitary observing on a park bench
on a pleasant summer day, in Central Park.
Peace amongst the chaos,
birds serenade in the trees,
radios blare in the background,
the constant hummed noise of the great metropolis.
Watching all the levels of humanity
office folks, snoozing under the trees,
the disgruntled, writeoff garbage can spies,
the genial picnickers, feasting on the green grass,
the agreeable romance, of the charming newlyweds,
the way it use to be
comparable to some old fifties Technicolor movie.
Overhead, the constant whining,
sometimes robust roaring
of aircraft turbojet engines.
"Now isn't this better,"
the wife says, from the dark couple
that slides past the park bench.
All for the record, caught by the scribe,
the scribbler, pen scratchings,
if I was younger it would be
the spraycan imprint, Splat and zap!
The tranquil breezes waft over from the pond,
with the miniature sail boats at the heart of it,
and all that concrete and steel,
sending those hot air thermals skyward.
Ah just give me some breathing space,
just give my mind a little repose,
before I go back to the stinking rat race.
[ Marguerite A. Sousa, Poetry Competition;
HONORABLE MENTION CAL., USA ]
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