i know of a place in my green city
its a small place
not oft enjoyed by those on the main coarse

seven trees
sly savvy squirrels
many many "pig"eons
thanks too the lady with the ever full bag of stale bread
two parkette benches
bust of a poet mounted on stone
and a landscaped mound of dirt
which in my minds eye is already
a glorious flower bed of colour ...galore

im not oft there
but when i am
im alone
...again
...naturally

a break from the bustle
be still my weary heart
breathe bern - breathe
innnnnnn
ouuuuuut
innnnnnn
ouuuuuut

apon my exit
i always look back
and make a mental movie
scored by acker bilk's stranger on the shore

bern shares
bv)