Saturday in The Park, poem by G. Lynn Brown at
William Warby

Saturday in The Park

Saturday in The Park

written by: G. Lynn Brown



We met by chance.
Two in a city of thousands,
what were the odds?
It was Independence Day,
but not for us.
Though we didn’t know it,
we were dependent on each other.

He was only passing through,
I was new to town.
We were strangers in a strange place looking for something familiar.
In search of home, but running away,
we somehow found each other.

We sat beneath a shade tree, that didn’t know it was,
and, kissed by the sunlight that peeked through the leaves,
we chewed the fat and ate fried chicken.

And when the sun settled into its reflection on the lake,
fireworks took its place,
filling the dusk with brilliance and smoke,
and, as though we were kids again,
we sat in awe of the rocket’s glare.

Once the shelling had ended,
we got caught in the current,
stuck in the crowd.
But lost in a world of our own,
we paused on the footbridge,
where his hand softly brushed against mine.
He flustered, and I laughed,
we both reddened in the cheeks.

He walked me to my car,
where he bid his sweet adieu.
If he had to be anywhere that night,
at least we were there together.
I hugged him close, and he held me tight,
and slowly we parted ways,
and in his eyes I saw he learned, too,
just how much we needed each other.
Still, he went his way, and I went mine,
what else could we do?

We already said goodbye.

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