Playground

She swings.
The world sways like a pendulum.
Grass and vast sky meet concrete and chewing gum.
She wants to soar the sundry breeze
to where the wind gods
keep their keys
but her feet lack wings
and keep coming back down.

He spins giddily.
A thousand gleeful faces
spin him to eternity,
the friends and family
he’s grown apart from.

She halts.
Waxen layers weigh her down.
Tired furred eyes of a dog
rugged in parcelled affection
stare out considering lives
they might have been.

I was too caught up chasing dreams
to remember how and when it was gone,
departing from memory’s junkyard
like a fleeing child. As I stand upon this brow,
bare of roundabout and swing
I wonder if it was here at all.

Middleforth Green

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2 thoughts on “Playground

  1. Lorna, this is the work of a very keen & disciplined poet. The distinctness of your internal & external perceptions, coupled with the deep well of poetic acumen you possess is a rare gift. This poem & others I’ve read of yours are prodigious in more ways than one. Really, you should be proud!

    I was greatly delighted by:
    “She wants to soar / the sundry breeze / to where the wind gods / keep their keys”

    That’s just one highlight of mention – and, I could go on all day!
    Again. lovely poem!

    Take Care,
    Cam

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