The Players In The Park

[edsiejka]

The Players In The Park

by Edmund Siejka

An errant breeze slipped in
Somewhere from the West Village
Caressing a couple
As they walked out of the park holding hands
Shoulders touching
Running her fingers through her hair
She stopped to look up
In return he smiled
His arms bringing her closer
Their lips meeting.

Nearby, the park musicians called it a day
Tired, the old man carefully put his violin back into its case
Next time they might try something new
Perhaps something from Verdi’s Aida
Leaving the park, he passed Our Lady of Pompeii
Hurrying across Carmine Street
He adjusted his cap
Before making the sign of the cross.

Overhead, a rainbow orange sun slowly dipped beneath the City’s horizon
Transforming a warm day into a cool September evening
Weekend crowds
Started arriving
Loud and boisterous
They swarmed the streets
In threes and fours.

Walking home he worried
The crowds at the park were getting smaller
The young never had time for opera
But why did they make their lives so hard
Just to push ahead?
The old man had no answer
Holding the violin case closer, he knew one thing for certain
For him another long day was over.

[creativesoul]

Sweet ! I love this ..

[judih]

yes, me too! So many details, mood, description. Well done, Ed

[saw]

like a painting
a wonderful story unfolds in your poem...