A Walk through the Park

Trees push through as stretching fingers. 

Spots of grass are left as hair.

And benches serve as eyebrows.

Lakes hold the thoughts of a thousand thinkers.

Ideas bounce between ripples of air.

-Rare tranquility.

A foreign world,

Remembered steps.

The largeness seeds humility.

Leaves fall with each breath,

A wonder to witness.

Your soul takes a piece with it-

Stealing what's left.