Mears Park

© Maya Rose/rosiearts@gmail.com

© Maya Rose/rosiearts@gmail.com

 

Where I first put my arm around you.
Clad in red coats
and autumn hats,
we walked from the Farmers’ Market,
bags of basil in hand,
then arm in arm.
The dog waited.

Where so much music has been made.
Echoing through Lowertown
where the shade of the stage
and the wind and the leaves
made sense of that Saturday.

Where a fine cup of coffee
cut through foggy minds.
We spread our blankets on grass
and listened.

Later, on rocky terrain
near the river
we climbed and
laughed
as we carried the dog.
We’d left the basil behind

but I had a foreign feeling
that everything was all right.

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