Where the Sidewalk Ends

Shel Silverstein is one of my favorite poets of all time - He writes all sorts of stuff, and can control your mood with a single word. His poems always seemed sort of alive to me, instead of just words on paper. His sentences wiggle around with ink and and they splash off the page to fly away and read to someone. This one, Where The Sidewalk Ends, is one of my favorites, and I always loved the the phrase "peppermint wind." Here is his poem, for you.

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 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, the children they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
- Shel Silverstein