The Park

It took hold of me
I saw a grown man crying
I ricocheted the difference as a stranger kindly watching
From a park bench across the street

And it took hold of me
I wonder what this man is borrowing
Has he unlocked the pattern from that well that he’s been drawing from
As he dips the shadows unto his feet?

And it took hold of me
Was someone planting him a garden?
Was her hair as long as the streams within a fountain
Pouring light
Into a home he could not keep

Oh how nice to see a pattern broken
When I’ve never even seen my father weep

So it took hold of me
Was someone planting him a daughter
Was her life as strong as the river pushing water from the sides
And gently out to sea

And it took hold of me
I offer cigarette and lighter
I know it isn’t much but if it makes spirits feel higher
We push the smoke out into the street
Into the street