TheBanyanTree: eisner park

[Mike Pingleton]

the old men own the park this morning,

their early christmas presents affording

them hours away from their wives.

under faded carpets of old coats their frames

in slight sway from the pendulous sweep

of one good arm, heads bent under

earphones intent on the echoed ping.



under the park is another park,

darker and dimmer than this dull saturday.

sweeping, sweeping, the old men shuffle

in tottered quadrants as they search

for lost knives, a ring.

cashbox-encrusted scimitars,

liberty head dimes,

roads to an empire never taken

a girl, a day, a word,

lost lives.