We come to the park to make phone calls
under the shade of trees carefully selected
by the Parks department.

Two women sit on a blanket talking,
oblivious to the multitude of children
playing on the shining merry go rounds

They make them flush with the ground now 

so no one can fall underneath.
Even still, a woman stands by

calling to her daughter,
That’s too fast Savannah!
Come over here and play on something else!
 
Teenagers survey the park
looking for one another,
or babysitting, I don’t know.

I’ve never known what teenagers were up to
even when I was one.
I push my children on the swings.

A scent wafts over me from
a little girl with a big yellow bow.
She smells of sunshine and shampoo.

Freshly cleaned, just to get dirty again.
The children are vibrant but after awhile

the adults all look the same

Just various arrangements of

doughy skin and wrinkled knees
on the trail of danger
 
Someone between childhood and adulthood
holds a book so everyone can see the title: You
Are a Badass.

On the bench, a man calls out to his children
Would you like me to push you?
Do you want me to keep your backpack?

Why don’t you let me hold your paper?
He is asking the question we all have eventually

Doesn’t anyone need me anymore?