13 observations about South Park, Macclesfield, 3 April 2013

By: ailsaandlisa

Apr 27 2013

Category: free verse, poem

2 Comments

(with apologies to W.S. and T.S.E.)

A winter in springtime is its own season,
and the cruellest,
mixing crocuses with the purple desire
for a yellow breeze.

The lake sparkles in the sunshine
but the water is too icy for the swans.

There is a labrador called Elijah
with his mistress and her granddaughter.
The girl has a scooter. She has insisted
on eating some of the crusts
intended for the ducks.

The bandstand could do with a bit of colour,
some polished brass, some livery,
and some northern sounds.

The dogs must be wonderful companions
but I do hate the piles of mess
their owners leave behind.

The young women pushing prams
or having healthful walks
with their firstborn in a sling, think
the worst is behind them.

The internet café that was opened
for teenagers with nowhere else to go
has been closed, because,
as it turns out, no-one with clout
gives a damn about them.

The trees are line-drawings, pen and ink,
without blackbirds.

The children in the play park climb
and swing and spin and bang their knees.
It’s always the knees.
Some parents play with them,
some sit on benches and chat. Some
write poetry.

You can see the hills from here.
And Shutlingsloe.
There’s still snow on the tops.

I can hear the diesel engine of the roller
on one of the two bowling greens
because as it turns out
there is money for leisure facilities
for people with white hair.

The sun is in the right place but the wind
is blowing from Scandanavia.

One gardener is hoeing.
He wears a bottle-green fleece and a flat cap
and keeps chaos at bay,
one weed at a time.

 
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2 comments on “13 observations about South Park, Macclesfield, 3 April 2013”

  1. Congratulations to you both on a lovely Spring poem and image.
    Phil


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