To Think

To think we shared city sidewalk

We sat on rocks in Central Park

Where children draw with colored chalk

So excited to make a mark.

What better way to spend the day?

You came here fifty years ago

On a lazy kind of Sunday

Watching the people come and go

A bag of chestnuts on your lap

You asked where you could find a map.

The sense you had of being free

Was stronger than the need to write

The atmosphere inspired you

And you could stay up late that night.

Now roller skates are breezing through

Bicycle tires blurred by speed

And pigeons pecking near a bench

Tourists tossing sunflower seed.

A little further down the stench

A homeless man covered in rags

Begging a dollar for some food

His cart piled high with garbage bags.

He cried to show his gratitude

When you put five into his hand.

And then you heard the tinkling

Tin drums of a marimba band,

Freeing your mind of everything.