Seesaws and Shadows

There are shadows in the playground where the children used to laugh. I see them. Others don’t.
I skirt the wrought iron fence, green paint peeling to the concrete like makeshift grass, and edge my way towards the swings. The seats are empty, but the chains still lurch pendulum-like back and forth. This place spooks me, and I’m used to being spooked.
A man with some rattish dog sweeps by without looking up eager to be anywhere but here. If only I had that choice.
The shadows move with the sun flitting between the angular school buildings, so long deserted, edging towards the things they wish to play upon. Soon it will set, darkness will consume this place and the children shall, at last, get their wish. I wonder, will they ask me to play this time?
I lie back on the seesaw, take a bite from my pastrami sandwich and wait. I always wait, as I’ve nowhere else to be.


23 thoughts on “Seesaws and Shadows”

  1. I will find out if I like dark fantasy and I will let you know. So far any thing that I have read I have liked.
    You might want to look at “Twin Dakotas” another poet Paul Beech has written, I do enjoy he poetry and prose as well.
    You are most welcome and thank you for the Kindle edition, it lets me store so many good books.

  2. There is a spooky playground near the Woods here … Rarely I see Kids there and it is really on the edge of the Woods just above the hill. It is always dark and gloomy there. My Kids used to stopped there with me when we had a walk. Kids are Kids and you cannot say ‘No’ when you are passing by a playground.

    Who knows are there … but Shadows are not the only Thing that is there, isn’t it?

    Almost a breatheless tale this one, makes one feels the chill gets down your spine …

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