NIGHT COMES TO THE PARK BY THE HILL

The swing seats were empty,

Their chains silent and still.

The sliding boards stood sentry,

As the sun set over the hill.

There were no children running around.

There was no laughter in the air.

No shouts of joy were heard,

From kids playing without a care.

There were no old people,

Sitting on wooden benches,

Scattered around were several lost toys.

Two balls, a doll, and some plastic wrenches.

Leftover embers were still glowing,

From a cookout on a grill.

Nighttime had come,

To the park by the hill.

Michael D. Schafer

© January 16, 2013