sick day

I haven’t been feeling 100% for about the last week (I’ve had a cough I can’t shake, probably due to trying to kick the cigarettes yet again), so this morning I called in sick to work. I’m not sick enough to be bedridden, but all that endless explaining on the phone to lousy people who think it’s my fault their mobile is shut off just didn’t sound like too much fun today! Instead, I’ve been laying around reading Shel Silverstein’s “Where the Sidewalk Ends” to Boy-o.

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.