Last Day At The Baylands Poem by Matt Ransom

the last day at the baylands
and already it's rained
but the sky is that blue for now
and the geese buzz me
as I sit on my bench in the marsh
so close that I can hear them wheezing
as they pump their way south

the park is empty again
except for the kite-flyers
there's no one to watch
pondering the late afternoon
the softball fields are even silent
players and fans have found other games
or stolen home

so I'll walk till I'm tired
over the hills, past the aspens
along the marsh, through the soft grass
and stare at the green-tinged hills
in the dying sunlight
jets arc away over the water
and the traffic lines up on the highways

I've got time to think of the things I love
while the tension rolls away
the only time that seems to short
is the time that I get to stay