The chill in the air
The wind on your face
The waves rolling in
You picked up the pace.

You said you’d be there
She waited for you
If you didn’t make it
What would she do?

Down by the pier
She waited  alone
She called you four times
You forgot your cell phone.

Her black silhouette
There in the dark
Under the pillars
At Sandy Hill Park.

As you approached
She frantically whispered
Where have you been?
You then started to shiver.

Your eyes would adjust
With the moon out of view
No one was around
She’d been waiting for you.

A small weathered boat
With worn cushions inside
Where she carried the load
That she brought there that night

“What should we do?
I brought two canvas sacks
Should we separate it
Can we carry it back?”

“The Water Patrol
Will be here in an hour.
We’ll  have to move fast
Let’s head towards the tower.”

Once back at your place
You felt safe and warm
You  locked all the doors
You set the alarm.

The money was there
You waited inside
For the knock on the door
You’d be dead,  if they lied.

A man dressed in black
In a Mercedes Benz
Accompanied by two
Very scary young men.

They picked up the bags
With the money inside
Once they were gone
You sat down and cried.

“What were you thinking?
Why would you agree?
To get involved
With the likes of those three?”

“I had no choice
I was told what to do
Thank God you were there
“Thank God you came through.”


Photo by Angela Galardi.

Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories.

4 thoughts on “SANDY HILL PARK”

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