The Park (The Conundrum)

By Andrew R. Duckworth

There is a place I go to in my mind,
A large park along the riverside,
Where old men play chess and birds are fed
By familiar faces inside my head.
But I often wonder what would be
If the birds aren’t fed so graciously
By those who no one else can find
Because they live inside my mind.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s