The Park -- Part Two

(Please read The Park -- Part One first ... This is a continuation from Part One, due to space limitations) Yes, kids at play are bold and wise with flashing smiles and knowing eyes. Children tire easily of grown-up prattle; thoughts turn to cakes, to toys that rattle. They think that Belles and Bills tell lies. Tme is a birthday gift or a new surprise: games to play; a windy day for a kite one flies; coins that shine; toys that squeak; a trip to the zoo at the end of the week. Belles and Bills persist in their story. Some even mention forgotten glory. Children go home to eat, to sleep, as Belles and Bills their vigils keep then wearily drift back to flats to listen to the rustling rats, to sip their beers or gins or rums -- to wait until the morning comes. They stand and stretch, look all around, surveying the world to which they're bound. Then they shuffle away with airs of sadness at being always on the verge of madness. They'll see once more the sun's first ray, the birth in the park of another day. Eyes are glazed and minds are dazed; the atmosphere grows dim and hazed. An eerie echo of an unheard bark reverberates throughout the park amid falling leaves and a darkening sky and the nightly proof of the chilren's lie.