Thursday, September 21, 2006

city livin

i go for a walk & smell nothing sweet
pounding fake rock with balls of my feet

4 comments:

  1. Anonymous2:30 PM

    That's what's so great about Oklahoma

    trees and grass, not steel and glass

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous5:47 PM

    I like to remember that its still real dirt beneath the fake rocks.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous8:30 AM

    Read this one today...reminded me of this blog...

    Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
    There is a place where the sidewalk ends
    And before the street begins,
    And there the grass grows soft and white,
    And there the sun burns crimson bright,
    And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
    To cool in the peppermint wind.

    Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
    And the dark street winds and bends.
    Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
    We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
    And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
    To the place where the sidewalk ends.

    Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
    And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
    For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
    The place where the sidewalk ends.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Anonymous11:27 AM

    thanks kid D, i haven't read this in decades. i love the line - And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
    To cool in the peppermint wind.

    very cool

    ReplyDelete