cityparksummer

the man in the three piece suit relaxes
cross-legged on the weed-free lawn,

his shiny wingtips empty and grounded,
he waits for the boy with braces after
a downtown orthodontist visit.

the park swelters green almost tropical
in late June’s vibrant noontime,

cucumbers, pita and yogurt drinks
are sipped and munched by sprawling
crowds of gleaming lunchers,

(laughter and talk curve lively through the park’s
wandering perimeter, paint the moment comfortable)

the lad has met a new pal with happy eyes,
soft orangeish fur and a red studded leather collar,

as they romp through fragrant mown grass
sniff its farm-like sweetness,
dad fishes in the rumpled suit coat
for coins, or maybe, a few moist dollars.

the bright bell of the ice cream man
beams and scampers like music
or light across the verdant field

and the three Tuesday picnic-ers
begin to grin like drunken sailors
as they lick melt streams fast flowing
down strawberry and vanilla mountains.