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
Thanks for stopping by my blog! I’ve always loved that poem, great picture!
A classic piece…
Lovely!
You captured the poem perfectly. You put the poem into a beautiful and accurate visual. Especially “where the smoke blows back” and “the dark street winds and ends.” wonderful!
Shel Silverstein’s work has always been one of my favorites — thanks for posting!
Which of Silverstein’s work are your favorite ?
Great picture and words!
Thanks !!
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