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Park
April 4, 2008
She throws her wind at my face.
My hair flies while children laugh, climbing on her playground.
I sit on her bench.
I’m already relaxed, at peace.
She is so stable, so calm,
a balance to my hectic life.
Her trees smile as I approach them.
I climb to the top, and grin.
I can almost hear, the branches shaking as though they were giddy with silent laughter
I always know to go to her when the road forks and I do not know where to go.
She, the park, will always be my friend.
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