Walk of Light
Picnic Day by Bea Toscano
Waking up, the garbage truck cracking waste
The window shines
Sunny day, picnic time
You head out, Fort Hamilton Calls
Old men playing Bocce Ball, eyes crinkling, smiling at your bouncing steps
Past Greenwood and the old lady in the bathtub
Past fast food and garden dreams
Where you went with Gran for the new seedlings
The deep horns blow, wave to the firetruck screaming by
The hill appears
“keep up Bea”, you crest the hill
Sounds hit ya, handballs slapping the wall,
Watch the bikers flying by
Open your eyes wide
You see it, now.
Your feet take over, you’re in charge.
what happens now
Picnic Day at prospect park
Is there anything better?