The Park by the River

by Wendy Atkinson

The park by the river
must remember my name
for it was my host
time and again

picnics in summer
long walks in the fall
sledding in winter
we've been through it all

the park would remember
my childhood games
played on its green grass
and on its walkways

climbing the trees
branches bent with my weight
hide and seek places
outside of the gate

the white, snowy hills
will recall my quick sleigh
as I zoomed down the trails
on the coldest of days

the flowers in springtime
the summer's warm breeze
the crisp air in autumn
winter's frost on the trees

this park by the river
must remember my name
we've seen all the seasons
time and again.

Copyright © Wendy Atkinson 2003