Sonnet #308

In the park, there is a trail that runs through woods

It’s paved and there are bridges over rocks

The trees along the path are pruned and blocks

Prevent the mud from flowing like it would

It’s such a simple thing to see the seasons

Step out onto the trail, there’s wooded lines

There the flowers bloom and snakes unwind

And trees blossom, seed, then come undone

My son rides quiet on this trail, there’s deer

The dogs pass through, he smiles and calls out

The birds rise with sunlight, cicadas there

I took my son to church and he knew nothing

And I knew nothing, and they all knew nothing.