Playground
| Johnny goes twist, Jenny goes snap |
| Little kid noises banging wetly, |
| the monkey bars a skeletal husk |
| in
moonlight.
|
| Laura burns bright, Tommy sprays wild. |
| Flames like ocher and scarlet peels of |
| merry-go-round paint, and slippery riverlets |
| down
the spiral slide.
|
| Steven dangles, Cara swells. |
| Swings of shadow from chains |
| looped-the-loop to nooses, like coiled |
| snakes
hanging.
|
| but now |
| John shakes his head, Jen laughs. |
| All the other grown-ups smile at |
| the hide-and-seek scavenges of youth. |
| The playground is dead, to them. |
Copyright 2004, Samuel Minier