The park is peaceful and serene,

Your feet lead you onto the grounds,

The absent sound of cheery children,

Instead, you can hear the chirping of birds,

Chattering amongst themselves in their own melodic language.

 

Of the people here, few are chatting with their friends,

Their footfalls can be heard as they stride through the park grounds,

Twigs and wood chips crunching under their feet.

 

Lazily disposed trash breeds with the wood chips and dead leaves,

Still green leaves are dancing softly on the arms of the trees,

A gentle breeze serves a smoky scent to your nostrils,

It reminds you of a summer bonfire and charred meats.

 

Watch carefully, there are squirrels leaping along,

One chases a bird while another scavenges for food,

Their tails gracefully swish behind them,

The movement almost like a caterpillar scooting its way along a flat surface.

 

Around the Noon Lions sign, you can spot a dragonfly buzzing around,

Its wings creating a delicate humming melody if you listen close enough,

Music fills the ears of passersby as you travel closer to Main Street,

Car engines quiet themselves at the stop lights,

Rumbling loudly once again when the light turns green.

 

Look closer yet,

There’s a sign atop its tilting post down by the sidewalk,

The paint is chipping off and peeling away from the metal bars of the playground,

You think all of the traffic cones are orange, but alas, there is one green cone,

Scattered wood chips fill the cracks in the sidewalk,

You see that picnic table and bench duo over there?

It’s bending at the middle, traveling down at the ends.

 

You’re sad to leave the quiet and peaceful park,

But you’ll be back soon,

For today in Lincoln Park,

It happens to be such a beautiful day.