Concrete Balloons and Willows Sway by Ken Allan Dronsfield

I watched the sunrise on a cold day
ducks spar for bread at the city pond
hot coffee steeps in cups of gold hue.
Bikes on parade, just another Sunday
as I play the worn paths in red flipflops
amazed by the dresses on the toy dogs
as owners guide them from tree to tree.
I’m watching the concrete willows sway
as toy sailboats race off in harsh winds.
I fidget and quiver in a strange warmth
listening for coins dropping in my cup.
Colored balloons on sale only a buck
clown looks like Gacy, nefarious in life
I ponder my escape on a different path
but ponies pass, maybe lost unicorns?
I sit down to enjoy a bag of popcorn as
squirrels ran up and snatched the thing;
but was it a squirrel, or a huge city rat?
I’m not sure, as I’m blinded once again
the self-medicating will do it every time.
Cotton candy selling in rainbow or pink
strum a tune and one more coin plunks
during another lost day in the city park
as I enjoy my M&Ms and skittles mixed.

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a published poet from Oklahoma. He loves thunderstorms! His published work can be found in reviews, journals, magazines and anthologies throughout the web and in print venues. His poetry has been nominated for two Pushcart Prize Awards and the Best of the Net for 2016.

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