On benches in parks I’ve sat for a time to study under trees that filled the air space and clock count of season and reason circled by children dancing and being where we get away from Earth for awhile flying benches to the moon through branches.
But kids don’t sit on benches for too long and after a snow the park is stone cold if you go out you’ll hear the benches groan see paint peel the wood cracking like branches the distant winter sun cool as heaven.
Here is one a bench branch elephant’s trunk bent low for the girls to climb up and sit bouncing to tunes in the key of summer.
I will find a bench to sit and pull out pen and notebook the devil to scribble in a park street sidewalk outside a pub wherever placed with angels of quiet grace and return to Earth in time for dinner.
In the evening the sun is placed over 60th and Belmont walking down the middle of the street into the powdery scene I snap a few pics with my phone cam:
Earlier in yard I cut feather grass as dry as a lint trap and the spent summer daisies cringed crinkled into dust as I yanked on the stiff stems like the barber at my gone to seed hair a mess she said.
End summer evenings still too hot to walk but coming of Fall equinox portable air conditioner quiet fan spins cooler nights tiny blue eyes charge to pay to keep cool to sleep.
So it goes Vonnegut said so it goes around and around on old vinyl the needle finishes its drive toward the center the turntable still spinning the needle clicking back and forth wanting to stop but caught in the groove.
No one understands Universe least of all physicists who must talk a taught tongue while the rest of us find rhymes and rhythms as we dance around and around until the moon goes down as Chuck Berry said around and around until the sun goes down and the moon comes up.