Late Friday afternoon 
In Brooklyn 
The sky, bright blue
With a sun 
Still hours from sleep 
Along Stratford Road  
Arab, Jewish, Latino
Children play on the sidewalk
Skip and yell and laugh 

Push younger siblings in prams
Draw chalk pictures and lines 
Into the cement 
People walk their dogs
Run with
Headphones plugged in
Feet pounding
In the runner’s shuffle 
Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa! 

Cars blare music
Setting the mood for Friday night 
A child cries, comforted by its mother because it fell off its scooter 
A fire truck races, horn blaring
Lights flashing 
At the edge of the park
Three small boys perch in the gazebo
Plotting mischief 
Dad is busy at the grill
Mom chats with neighbors
A woman sits reading in dappled sunlight 
She sits in close proximity to her parked car
Where she has left her phone, wallet and handbag 
She has told her husband she is working late

Further down 
A family sits eating pizza
The large box obscures the child
As you walk past
You see him munching on a cheese slice 

At the baseball field
The men’s games are in progress 

A little girl
Three or four, 
Wearing pink floral leggings under a baby blue dress
A purple scarf over her long dark braids
Walks by with her mother 
The girl giggles for no apparent reason 
The mother gives her a look
They keep walking

In the other direction
A mother and her little boy
Three or four
Walk by 
            Don’t touch it honey 
            People should really pick up their own dog’s poop
                    It’s not Harry’s poop?
                    HARRY’S POOP! 

Two girls on bicycles come tearing by 
The smaller girl yells
          LET’S RACE-3-2-1-GO! 

I realize
That for a whole half hour
I wasn’t even thinking about cancer.