Playgrounds

No one goes there any more
It used to be the best playground
with swings and sandboxes and

a box hockey game
The slides were shiny metal
and in the heat of summer

you could feel the burn on your
bare legs the whole way to the
bottom and after a rain you would

land in a muddy puddle
Now it is an empty lot, abandoned
for the newer, safer playground

across town that grownups drive
the kids to watching as they swing
on swings with safety harnesses

and slide down slides that stay
cool to the touch, landing on
a soft rubber surface, or climb

on engineered walls with rules
posted at the bottom
Maybe, someday, kids can

be kids again
play in the mud, swing higher
and higher, pumping their legs,

climb to the top of a rock pile
and proclaim themselves
rulers of the world

—–

this poem was prompted by Imagined by Bjorn – Time Travel