Pushing my year old grandson
snoozing in a three wheeled jogging stroller
A brindled bull dog choke chained to my wrist
I'm tender and tough
This old run down park is too
Paint crews know this place
They struggle to stay ahead of the graffiti.
We jog by two tatted gang kids
Moving toward the shadows cast by the old olive trees.
Shade and breeze beckon.
I'm tender and tough
This old run down park is too
Paint crews know this place
They struggle to stay ahead of the graffiti.
We jog by two tatted gang kids
Moving toward the shadows cast by the old olive trees.
Shade and breeze beckon.
Laid out on the cool grass one hand on the dog,
long stretched and content,
the other on Logan's stroller.
I begin to doze
Logan's chubby grubby toes turned out as he dreams
We relax into a sweet and joyful
moment.
We relax into a sweet and joyful
moment.
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