Westgate Park

For Alice's 30th birthday back in 2000, Peter and I sent her 30 presents to celebrate. One of the presents was a poem I wrote, about a happy moment in our childhood, that she had on her refrigerator in San Diego on the last day of her life.

I thought I would reprint it here, in part because I'm scared I will lose the blue piece of paper on which it's written. It's called
-----
Westgate Park

Going over the hill
my pulse starts to race
in the Dodge Colt.

Look to the right
see the crowd gather
'round the wading pool
not yet wet.

Do you remember
the jet stream?
For ever young
Three tykes
Too excited
One summer.

Whoosh
Water whirls by in waves
Wait in line
My turn next
Sit and splash down
Cool exhiliration
to the center of the small sea.

Look ma
I'm swimming underwater

Like an angel with wings

Silently creating a masterpiece

Under the tree

With a watchful eye

over her young.

Hurry out

One more go

before it gets too deep

Watch out for the sprinklers

Water water everywhere

Not a moment to rest

until the pool closes.

Red cheeks and

Red eyes

Hi mama

Oh for heaven's sake

You kids really

overdid it this time

I want pita butter and jelly

First dry off

Give me my towel!

If you kids are good

We'll get ice cream at the dairy

Before your father gets home.

Next week

Let's come back

for goldfish.

-----

Alice read this poem to me over the phone about 6 months ago. She cried a little, and I was touched that she saw the love I meant to express in it. It was also a paean to our childhood, which while often wrought with pain and misery, had its blissful spots. Going to Westgate Park was definitely one of them.