Wednesday
at the park, the
San Gabriel River slow flows as
trees, grass, and gardens grow,
ducks and squirrels search
while dogs wander;
people—few kiddos play,
adults do nothing—just relax while
idle athletic fields recover, empty
picnic tables under shade; and
boulders and benches go unused,
feel the summer zephyr, nice,
some souls are alone, but
I’m with you.
It’s Wednesday. Recover.
Relax. Everything else
can wait.
Look both ways — up and down stream;
mind the gaps for crossings over to another side.
Sometimes just go and be — hear, feel, and wait and see.
Our Literary Journey 
I’m with you. I gave up deadlines some time ago!
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🙂
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I’m ready, willing and able to get out of the rat race (not that I race that hard, I assure you…)
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I feel like I’m a broken record. Gotta get my needle out of the groove and onto a new track!
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Oh there is so so so a poem in that emotion.
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Hmmm…. 🙂
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🙂
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In my opinion, you do just fine. 🙂
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You are most kind…
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I try, but it’s true. 🙂
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I thank you.
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