At the Park - March 9, 2021

bodies tumble out car doors

the large and small contents

of two families both moms say

wait for us kids burn the grass

one jumps on a swing feet skyward

another slips down a slide arms up

one more hops the merry-go-round

head up to spin dizzy and free

dads fall into gossip’s gravity

the weight of living layered

on their words like the bark of

the old park tree that shades them

while play is discussed

in squeals from weightless fun

and half-grounded joy

tirelessly breaking the surface

and like a leaf caught in an updraft

that flies up and around it returns

earthbound when these words

dismiss the wind

time to go