sward

Memory finger paints.
Enthusiastic toddler of the mind
swirling times and places into blobs;
so all summer's shining faces
melt into one sweltering day -
stretched upon a sward in Central Park
as dogs give frisbees chase
and coconut scented kids race by
past lovers languid on the grass
and in the distance the barking cry
of the hawker with his waters
or the bawling sons and daughters
caterwauling for the Carousel.
In this grass-bottomed box
sided by sky-scrapers,
you murmur for a moment
a blessing on the landscapers
as the dappled shade makes
piebald patterns on freckled skin.