DAILY ROUTINE by Louis Kasatkin
 
Every evening at 5.09
he leaves the office,
takes the streetcar
into town,
goes for a stroll
down to the park
by the canal;
there he sits
on the bench nearest
the ornate water fountain;
He dreams,
of a lost childhood
long summers ago
by the sea,
days filled with singing,
laughing and
crying;
Crying now,
the little girl
by the fountain
who has lost her way,
golden hair, eyes of grey,
reflected in his thick lenses;
As he watches her
he dreams,
of long summers ago,
a childhood by the sea
filled with laughing
and crying;
now in the park
he lies beneath a summer sky,
side by side with
the golden girl
and
she lies
very still.
 
THE END

 

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