What makes place
By Mary Buchinger
not space are three
things: a feeling of safety,
a sense of purpose,
and a view
my son explains
as we swing together
on a wooden bench
suspended from chains
in a city park far from
our home
A photo shoot
unfolds before us
a woman in lavender
blooms this way and that
beside a patch of royal
blue irises
I feel safe in the benign
air of New Orleans children
with lime sno-ball lips play
on the lawn in this place
I wonder
if I can be place for my son if I
comprise the necessary elements
But there is a fourth thing he says
he can’t remember
The poser
has changed into a scarlet dress
platform shoes matching satchel
a living wall of green ivy
pops her red she flips
her hair for the camera
A woman in fuzzy
slippers stops by our swing
Oh, I always loved traveling with
my mother! How embarrassed
she’d be to see me out in slippers
Can I take
a picture of you? I have 300 gallons
of honey My husband keeps bees
I promise not to take your phone
We smile
for her Her vape pen clatters
on the sidewalk falls apart
she says This clear dry air
is unusual here You’re lucky!
When she
wanders off she forgets
her insulated mug on the ledge
and my son runs to return it to her
Oh thank you she gushes
my son nods acknowledged
in this place
Must be people
I say the fourth element
making space a place
Copyright © 2021 by Mary Buchinger.