Blackstone Park
My wife and I
Visited our daughter and her husband in tiny Rhode Island
Newlyweds living in
The city of Providence and hope
We got up early Saturday
Feeble ray of light
Barely touching the horizon
Dense purple void below
Adventure in her voice
Wife said
Let’s wander
The house is quiet
And the kids are still asleep.
We walked through a cold morning
Not far but just enough
For the houses behind us to disappear from view
Ahead we saw
Tall trees
Hidden behind them a river called the Seekonk
Native American
For Black Goose
Getting closer we found a winding a path
She gave her hand to me
As we walked through a quiet place
Of brown leaves, bare trees
Here and there patches of green grass
Surviving a chilly Fall
Further and further
We went
Off in the distance we saw a lonely figure
And on the river
People rowing
Strangers smiled
Read an old weather beaten sign
That welcomed us to Blackstone Park
Stopped near the water’s edge
Looking down
To a tide that had run out the night before
Exposing a thin sand
Imagination believing
Each tiny grain
Was a person, place or thing.
We returned
To meet two sleepy faces
Daughter anxiously asked where we were
Silly Children, my wife replied
Your parents were never lost.
Copyright © Edmund Siejka | Year Posted 2010
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