by Robin Olson
Whenever I feel like thinking,
I go to the park far from town.
It’s a cozy little park,
That will never be cut down.
There’s only two people who know about it:
Me and Mr. Brown.
He likes to sit and talk to me,
On our bench next to our big tree.
And when we’re all done talking,
“Goodbye,” we always say.
And then he jumps off my lap,
And he hops away.
Ready to come back another day.