The Girl in the Park

I chanced to be lying in a park
With my face to the clouds
And my back on the grass
Admiring the undersides of the leaves
Of a particular oak tree,
A chinquapin with a burl

And a girl with curl
In her light brown hair
And a spring in her step
Came bounding up

And even though we’d never met
She told me this:
“I love you,
Not because of who you are
But because, I am love.”

With that she floated away
And I returned to my leaves
Sharp teeth with no bristles
A small smile cracking across my face


Art by Douglas Simms Stenhouse


2 thoughts on “The Girl in the Park”

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