I wanna call him up on a cold September day
ask him to meet me at the swings,
Walk a block to every little kid's dream
the playground.
The one behind their rebuilt elementary school.
I lightly swing to and fro
watch as he pulls in and parks before a concrete bar.
Watch as he climbs out and
makes his way over to me.
To the swings.
Keys around his *******.
He looks up
meeting my eyes.
He watches as I slightly swing back and forth,
An arm hooks around the metal chain of the swing next to me.
His toes keep to the ground,
rocking his swing.
My legs swim in the autumn air as I'm pushed forward.
I get a chill as the cool air
bites into my skin
covered by a light jacket.
The smell of smoke,
burning leaves,
fills the air.
He doesn't understand
how he's all I ever wanted.