Park Life with Scattered Birds

Park life with scattered birds,
occasional joggers in various degrees of sweating,
the incessant squirreling of squirrels,
and disregarded fast food wrappers,
the material indictment.

These clouds are huge,
as big as my ache for you.

A rat is intent in the brook while a large dog drags it's minder to another tell-tale smell.
Adolescent boys smacking a battered ball,
immersed in faraway dreams and stadiums,
until the next lunge and impact,
the painful present reality and the hot curse.

I smell the scent of this new cut grass,
as fresh as the wound in this bleeding heart.

By the swings,
a lurking, smoking group of ingrates.
they belong to us,
the momentary shift of blame,
and the warm greeting of the mum and her happy
panting brood of seemingly nicely nurtured,
take their place.
Hurrying to the inflatable castle and ice-creams,
gossip, coffee and lunch-time plans.

Between sweeping, leafy boughs, chinks and beams of light,
I think of a pitiless stare,
of love that left last night.