My favorite poem

April28

Where the Sidewalk Ends
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.
Shel Silverstein

Yes I know every knows this poem. But its special to me because when I was little I used to read it and the three Shel Silverstein poem books we had all the time. And I still remember to this day the amazing imagery and voice in this poem as I sat on my mothers lap as she read to me.

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