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Alice Penny
Poems
Jan 2013
In This Deserted Playground
Silence
all around
no one there
but the wind
gently pushing
an empty swing.
The swing
creaking, slightly eerie
and the leaves
rustling
over the concrete ground
these are the only sounds.
Above
a crow cawing
spotting berries
for a snack
the only life
in this deserted playground.
What with technology etc. , who plays at a playground now-a-days?
Written by
Alice Penny
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