Brookwrite

Writing - Songs

    Central Park Five

    Amid the dead of winter
    I sit without a shiver
    along the snow-cleared path
    numb to December's wrath.
    I wish I had a sled
    not a dream that's dead instead
    But I must say this day's nice
    as I sit here warm as ice.

    Central Park always thrives
    even after snow arrives,
    watching all these wives
    watch their half-grown half-lived lives.
    I wish for a friend or two
    to throw a football to.
    Without what little I am due
    I sit warm as frozen dew.

    For another so-called life
    I wouldn't trade my strife,
    I've needed every pain
    to make every modest gain.
    Most don't have it that rough
    but I've lost time to that enough.
    I know I'd have no other way
    as I sit warm this frozen day.

    Written in December, 2005, on that same park bench on the eastern side near 78th Street.

    Copyright Doug Brook. All rights reserved.