The Playground Inside the Park

The playground near the park
was always swarmed with kids
and moms after three o' clock...
there I took Crystal and Chris.

Each Monday and Tuesday afternoon 
we went to Forest Park, and regardless 
of nippy weather, nothing kept us away...
I was thirty and it felt I was only thirteen.
Somehow the hours passed, but not as quickly;
sunset and dusk came and we played 'till nine.

Sitting on the bench, I closely watched them 
there were no children happier than them;
crickets sounded awkward, fireflies were nice...
glad it was Spring, no bugs threatened to bite.

In late Fall, I went back to the playground...
it was empty and solitary; the breeze chilled
my bones, the kids' image flashed and went.  
Intense nostalgia made me remember them;
I must confess I started to cry: the strongest
emotion overcame me...I surely missed them.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Emu Avatar
February 19, 2016 at 4:14 PM
Nice poem. Happiest times of your life playing with your kids. Cheers Craig
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