25andteething

ramblings on life, love and the Boston Red Sox - not necessarily in that order...

08 April 2005

Where the Sidewalk Ends

I loved this poem as a child, struggled to find the 'deeper meaning' in it when examining children's literature for symbolism in high school and grasped that it was whatever one makes of it as an adult. It may be a children's poem, but like so much other "children's literature", it's meaning goes so much deeper than initial asssessments.

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

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