Thumbs up for Where the Sidewalk Ends: Poems and Drawings by Shel Silverstein. Children’s poetry.
For some unknown reason I never read Silverstein as a kid; a lack that tends to make people in my cohort gasp in horror and pity, as if I’d said my family ate puppies for dinner. In light of that, I have picked up his books several times over the years and dipped in randomly, but it was my luck to never hit on any of the really good stuff. It took one of my best friends reading her favorite selections aloud to make me realize what I’d been missing. And that’s why we have friends, isn’t it. Now you’ll have to excuse me: I have some memorizing to do.
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 the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
— from “Where the Sidewalk Ends”
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