The Grey Train

The park is a place to watch the world glance by
The children feeding ducks the elderly walking hand in hand,
arm in arm,brought together in a silence that only years of knowing someone can bind
The young couple passing, hanging on each others words
giggling to a joke shared and the batting of eyelids
which would make any humming bird proud
Through the beds of formal roses
darting bees and flies hover over petals as soft as lips
As a family picknicking under trees are shaded from the glare of the midday sun
I drift by looking for my corner in this park.
Passed a young group of horn locking teenagers
contemplating their moves for the weekend,
animated, energetic, youngsters on the brink of something amazing
I sit on a bench etched with words of remembrance
wondering how to freeze a perfect day away from the grey of the streets