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Reflections on Life Situations

Updated on May 12, 2008

Poems #5,6

Funtime

Parks are for kids

and mud

and puddles to fall in

and swings and

skinned knees

and turnstiles that go round merry

and slides and legs that don’t,

and cries of “push me”

and teenaged mothers in tow

behind three-year-old bundles

of an evening’s fun

and male hands black and white

that cooperate to make a carousel,

if not society, swing

and baseball and love and cut fingers

and tears, and sex-filled jeans

and pit stops to a distant bathroom lacking tissue

and eyes sprung wide

with teeter-totter surprise,

and laughter . . .

But mostly parks are for adults

who just want to be kids again,

even for an hour.

May 26, 1975

[Kiwanis Park, St. Joseph, MI]

Driven

Along the rim of the hill they come,

the desert nomads,

heading eastward.

Silhouetted by the morning sun

like pictures on a postcard they appear

single file, nose to tale,

relentlessly moving on,

Pushing their beasts of burden to do their will,

urging them up and down the slopes of

well-worn trade routes that bring

cotton to Cairo and corn to Memphis.

Onward they go, oasis to oasis,

pausing seldom, and then only

for the briefest of time

to take on water and stretch a leg,

their dromedary drones snorting

discontent all the while.

Refreshed, the drivers regroup

their weary charges and press on

through midday into night

hauling their precious cargoes

in search of treasured gold,

with little or painful thought

for themselves or the other treasures

they leave behind.

Better to be a palm tree in the desert,

It would seem, than be a driver of

trucks.

June 14, 1974

[while jogging near Ohio Turnpike, Sandusky, OH]

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    • trish1048 profile image

      trish1048 9 years ago

      Hi, I especially like the first one :)

      Thanks for sharing and welcome to HubPages,

      Patty

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