I found the public garden by accident - I used to walk for three quarters of an hour a day, at lunch time when everybody else walked. On that day I found myself in a part of town I had not visited before.
An important consideration for the landscapers must have been symmetry. There were echoes, perhaps, of the great Englishman, Lancelot Brown, but aren't there always in municipal gardens?
There were two ponds near the entrance. Pike roamed them in packs, lurking like submarines or exploding like mines under ducklings.
The pansies in the flower beds are planted in such a way that, when seen from above, they represent the shape of that old emblem of our country, that crooked indic cross, at least for the short period of their lives.
Flowers live and die together, like soldiers.
In the Italian sunken gardens two dogs circle and sniff, about to fight or fuck. Children play. At peace.
I walk from bench to bench, reading the dedications, the dates that are all so close to each other.
One bench stands apart.
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