I stroll paths
In the park
Where the green lady lives,
In daylight at first --
Then with the descending –
glow of the big city
Turning the lawns and trees here
Into a surrealistic dream
Rain not yet ready to fall
Though I hurry my step none the less,
This space a safe place
Where I have no recollections of her,
Good or bad,
Though when I look south
To where the green lady stands,
I think of her, and her fierce independent,
Stern defender of her personal liberties
A symbol of something I did not
Fully comprehend back then.
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