It’s the first warm weekend in the city so I bike to the park
I find a big tree to lean my bike and my back against
And I am alone
Everyone is out – families, couples, gangles of cyclists – playing frisbee, having picnics, drinking beer and I suddenly hope desperately that I’ll run into someone I know – an old friend, a new friend, an acquaintance, anyone – so I can join into this togetherness of being with loved ones in the sunlight.
But then I notice two small girls each holding the leash of one small dog,
running down the steps,
And a skinny Indian boy standing up on his bicycle riding fast,
And two small boys run up to me and ask if they can hide behind the tree with me.
“Who are you hiding from?”
They run away giggling to the next tree ahead.
And I finally notice the first flush of leaves, lime green, bordering the sky,
and the sweetness of a young couple sitting on a bench beneath the trees
and I realize everything is as it should be.
And I remember there is beautifulness
to being alone,
and there spaciousness
in being single.