A petite blonde gives her beau a lingering hug in the street; <br />she is leaving him and i can feel the bittersweetness of their parting. <br /> <br />An elder couple, hand-in-hand, wait to cross the avenue <br />that separates Acres Park from their home. <br /> <br />A man and his wife, push their baby in a stroller <br />beside sunlit grass, and wildflower meadows. <br /> <br />It makes my heart ache to see such beauty; to acknowledge that love <br />comes out of the woodwork to nail together a ship-wrecked society. <br /> <br />I have no desire to be them, but rather to watch them— <br />these lovers in the park on a Sunday afternoon— <br /> <br />and wonder about their lives: how they met, how they stay together, <br />how they work through sensitive life material. <br /> <br />These lovers in the park on a Sunday afternoon <br />stay adoringly young in each other's eyes, <br /> <br />trampling across my heart, <br />leaving tiny footstamps <br />like children's prints in the sand.<br /><br />S.J. Goldner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/valentine-s-day-37/
