Swimming With A School Of Fish                                                                                                                       

Like a dream you seem so blithe in spirit
strolling past me on the lawn
calling  to that lonesome dove in flight
protected by the steady hand
that guides us all through life

In the shadow of your eye I saw that certain smile
then off you blended with the sky
looking down from everywhere
all that space above to share.

“I can’t see,” complained the sun
“Tell that cloud to lean away
Bryant’s in the wind today”

In Bryant’s park the streets will say
Heaven sent, angels went to make it safe to
walk around —  buildings that surround
casting shadows off the glass and steel
gentle giants day and night
guarding Bryant’s sylvan field —






Paul Woods, Author