Memos from the Middle

Smack-Dab in the Middle of Living

The Playground

I watched you today
from across the street
as you played
in the park.

I watched you ease up,
survey the land,
then retreat
in fear.

Bigger feet
ran circles,
peddled bikes,
and climbed high.

All the while
you watched
in quiet longing
for friendship.

“Go on,” I whispered
to the wind,
hoping the prayer
would land
in your heart.

You took cautious steps,
backed up again,
and looked to me
for comfort.

I held my breath
and refused to speak
or even encourage
with a smile.

“You can do it,”
I thought,
“all by yourself.”

You turned back,
took a deep breath,
and lunged
the bravest step forward.

“Can I play too?”
I heard you say
with the shakiness
of uncertainty.

“Sure,” they said.
“Tag you’re it!”
as they scattered
every which way.

I watched you run,
and smile,
and play
never once looking back
for me.

I watched you grow up
right before my eyes,
and I cried.

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2 thoughts on “The Playground

  1. Damien on said:

    Your writing invokes emotion consistently. You truly are meant for this. With every entry you cast out even the slightest margin of doubt within me. I want this for you more now than i ever have before.

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