Sheldon Allan Silverstein

(September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999 / Chicago/ Illinois)

Where The Sidewalk Ends


There is a place where the sidewalk ends
and before the street begins,
and there the grass grows soft and white,
and there the sun burns crimson bright,
and there the moon-bird rests from his flight
to cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
and the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
we shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow
and watch where the chalk-white arrows go
to the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
and we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
for the children, they mark, and the children, they know,
the place where the sidewalk ends.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 07, 2010

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  • Smoky Hoss (11/17/2012 10:05:00 PM)

    If only we could get off the cement path of life, and play as children, fully enjoying the brief time we have here, letting go of the hard-facts of life, and seeing the greener reality of the fact that it is short, so live it! ... and laugh, a lot... either way it's on it's way out, why not have fun, while you can. (Report) Reply

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