Trust In Love – James Gallagher

Rittenhouse Square


Dusk creeps into the city’s park

ushering droves of the solitary.

Some scurry off to beat the sunset home

to electronic companions

who will share the blue dim-lighted cells

despite the canned laughter

and droll dialogue

where phones don’t ring and

doorbells never need to be answered.

Two sit and converse

sharing a variety of chocolates and lies.

They are old and meet here often.

They really don’t have much to say.

They comment on the young women’s bodies as they pass.

Others linger spotting the separate benches,

as if they were still searching for someone.

A man moves from one refuse container to another,

talking to an imagined listener,

not missing a single aluminum can or any food scrap.

Runners lope by

isolated in their earphones

breathing, padding

the square’s perimeters and pathways.

Slipping out from under the trees

hurrying after the retreating day

the light catches only

in the eyes of the children,

the dogs and the squirrels.

As darkness approaches, a choir of hidden sparrows

Accompanied by the endless drone of traffic

Lull the city into an unquiet stillness.



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