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.
I saw this book on one of my client's bookshelves just today and I thought of you knowing it was on your reading list. Have you found a copy of the whole book? Silverstein was probably one of the first poets I read since my mom loved him so very much. She has always taught kindergarten, preschool, first grade age kids, so she uses this a lot for them.
ReplyDeletehttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shel_Silverstein
I never knew he wrote so much, and songs and playwright, too! I always remembered his illustrations the most because I wanted my poetry to be deeper than his. But rereading it now, it is the simplicity that makes the depth, as I suppose, we come to know in a lot of things.
the "peppermint wind"....just love this.
When I visit Idaho in December I will see if I can borrow some of my mom's Silverstein books and find more of the best originals!
ReplyDeleteSounds good!
DeleteLimbo! The place between here and there. Start and end. An idea that children know, but do adults?
ReplyDelete