Poetry / Recess
The sounds of the playground
are comfort in winter
no children, no laughter, no shouts
here outside
just the iron ring cry
of a swing on a eye hook
the wind in the monkey bars
sleet on a slide
Grey snow all but banishes
yellow paint hopscotch
and ice jams the joints
of the merry-go-round
Nobody lingers here
just a few blackbirds
and me and it’s noon
so my shadow is gone
All alone with the crows
and the sounds of the playground
so useless
so empty
so peaceful
so cold
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TaleWeaver the author’s storytelling, writing and creativity book/game, at www.lulu.com/awhavens
Blog at www.TinkerX.com
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January 12, 2007
Deleted User
I like this. It almost sends a chill up my spine. Its desolate, its solitude, yet there is a warmth of being the only one whom recognizes these beautiful things seen through your eyes and yours only. I like how by describing the empty playground, the ice covered equipment, it sort of describes the emotions you feel. Good job.
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beautiful piece of writing great usage of words but it doesnt capture me i think because of the lack of ryhming i’d try and say it out loud to work on the flow get at it i cant wait to read a final version
it’s a very sad piece. it kind of reminds me of lost childhood. i think the whole point of poetry is trying to reach people on some emotional level. this one reaches my reminiscence. well done.
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