Abandoned

Abandoned on the promenade,
A big-wheeled trike did sit,
Forlornly waiting for the tyke
Who should be riding it.

I passed it on my morning walk,
When few are up and out
And seeing it, I wondered 
What its story was about.

For why was it forgotten?
Did the mom leave in a rush?
Or the dad or sitter tending to
A child’s scraped knee a’gush?

Or perhaps they came across some friends
And headed to the swings
With the tricycle remaining there,
Ignored for better things.

I hope someone remembers it
And comes to take it home,
Where it belongs much more
Than as a subject for a poem.

lostrhyme

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