This is The Men's Park. Men used to play here.
They played chess and sometimes checkers but mostly chess on these stone boards.
We were always told NEVER to go into The Men's Park.
So, of course we did. Not a lot, but enough to feel like we were breaking rules and tempting fate.
Once there, The Men utterly ignored us as we hung around the chess table, bored out of our minds with a stupid game that didn't include punching and running really fast.
The Men weren't too thrilled either with sweaty, snotty, fidgeting dirty kids interrupting their concentration.
I would watch the canopy of trees in that park from my bedroom window.
Bigger than the rest of the trees in the playground, they were the clock of the seasons. Glimpses of green would let me know when summer was coming. And then all too soon, hints of wind and leaves getting darker with other colors, when summer was preparing to leave.
Write Here: Women Poets of the Village — Lola Ridge and Sonia Sanchez - On March 26th, 2018, GVSHP and friends will gather around the Cherry Lane Theater stage by candlelight to celebrate the trailblazing women poets of the Vil...
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