The brightest, warmest day of spring so far
and the park teems with people, bright bodies
basking boldly, gleaming in unaccustomed sun,
blinking wildly at the prismatic dazzle of
dancing fountains. Jogging and chatting and
reading and tanning, grazing on picnics
and sipping from bubblers, turbaned and tank-
topped and polyglot. And carriages upon strollers
upon papooses and backpacks of wide-eyed
new ones pointing and gurgling at tulips and
sparrows. Begging the question: where will
they fit? These little ones grow like the peonies
and lilies lining the walks, and this park
is about to burst into an overflow of zillion-
headed dandelion fluff. How many other parks
are there, how many enticing days playing out
under this wide arc of straining sky? How many
days? But of course, that mother wants to say
to her child whose down-laden head she nuzzles
like the bees in the nettle—look,
look at this miracle.
—
Freeport, Maine resident Erin Covey-Smith is the author of Not-Yet Elegies (Finishing Line Press, 2020). Her award-winning work may be found in multiple anthologies—including A Dangerous New World and The Goose River Anthology—as well print and online journals, among them, kerning, humana obscura, Rust & Moth, and Third Wednesday. She holds an MFA in printmaking from Concordia University and has been pursuing a visual and written artistic practice throughout her career.
