Bio Note: I love sitting in parks where the benches, empty or otherwise, are all contemplative of life. I feel free when surrounded with activities and people, just like one would on a wild journey. I have enjoyed making new friends through Verse Virtual community and I am thankful to the editor Jim Lewis for it.
Mission Bay Kids Park
An address I keep when exploring the new neighborhoods, the creek, the embarcadero and the third street bridge, trapping generations in its steely resolve since 1933. At the playground, the whirling wind stirs the sand, weaves the laughter, the chatter and the shrieks into an invisible thread of routine and grief. Somersaults on the bars, merry-go-rounds and a tree gone bald with them all, unites the lost and found like the cotton clouds resting on the mountain tops. Faces live and relive each the fair that once was in a single divine shop until that time of the waiting, of nothing, nothing in the making.
©2022 Abha Das Sarma
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL