SUNDAY IN THE PARK WITH SUZY

Mar 27, 1996    rev. Aug. 16, 2014

Here on Main Street in Central Park

the Crowashuns are singing,

roller-bladers, runners and strollers move by.

Suzy completes another lap and eyes me

sitting in the damp grass propped against a big oak

snug in my down parka, my stocking cap pulled low

dozing like an old retired dishwasher,

empty Snapple bottle tilted in my hand.

A loose dog sniffs my shoe and I jerk as I awaken.

Is Suzy pretending she doesn’t know the old duffer sprawled in the dirt?

But she can’t hide that smile.