Early last Sunday morning
Dad announced we needed a glass of fresh air
And a mouthful of greenness
So we slipped off to the nearby park
Where we crept in as soundless as snails
Around us the day breathed air
That was a sharp as vinegar
Reminding of that winter was well on its way

Inside we watched the trees stretch and wake
While the grass stood up and shivered
Soon I was pointing towards a spider
That was strung on a necklace web
While far behind it
The sun rolled out like a golden ball

Suddenly dad smiled
The squirrels scampered from a bush
Then turned to grey stone
Until with a flick of its tail
It waved goodbye and was gone

Later as a passed the children’s playground
I looked at the lonely, red slide
and briefly remembered the summer days
when I slid down its slippery red tongue
But a tug of wind pushed me past
And I felt the warmth of Dad’s hand
Finally lead me on towards home