Monday, April 20, 2015

EMPTY (Day 17 - swing)

There are no children to swing
On the swing-set; it just swings
In the wind. Ching...ching...the links
Ring as they sway, no more kids
Remain to play on the slide
Or ride on the red horses

Mounted on enormous springs.
Ching...ching...the links ring and sway
In the wind like strange music
Echoing in the empty
Playground where once the sweet sound
Of children's laughter was heard.

Caren E. Salas

1 comment:

  1. I like the repetition of this, emphasizing the loneliness. Great poem.