When I was a kid,
My favorite place in the world
Was a park bench.

I used to sit at the end of the bench,
   Dangling my feet,
      Pretending to drive mother-with-child and
         Man-with-newspaper to their appointed destinations.

There, my friends and I spent hours
Playing forts,
   And robber-in-jail,
      And church.

And, though my friends never complained,
I'm sure they never appreciated that wonder
Spot, as much as I did.

Often, I would do my homework on a park bench.
At other times, I would lay down and
Look up through the trees
Talking with Johnny Mac about life and girls.

So, it shouldn't surprise you that I asked my sweetheart
To marry me on a park bench,
Like the one I grew up with,
Or that I should go THERE, when my wife died.

Today, I tease pigeons with popcorn
And swap stories heard a hundred times before.

I'm happy.

I'm glad to have had such memories.
And I'm glad to have had the feeling
Of a park bench.