beneath a small robin blue club house
with a deck leading to a robin blue slide
and a wooden beam holding
three swings - that held
both of us, a baby doll
and many innocent summers
Now, the sandbox lid is left off,
its insides sacrificed to rain, the
club house adopted by wasps
the metal of the swings has rusted
the baby doll eternally tied to one
and the robin blue slide now
sun bleached in some spots
and cloaked with moss in others
is the only place
our adult bodies still fit
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
beneath a small robin blue club house
with a deck leading to a robin blue slide
and a wooden beam holding
three swings - that held
both of us, a baby doll
and many innocent summers
Now, the sandbox lid is left off,
its insides sacrificed to rain, the
club house adopted by wasps
the metal of the swings has rusted
the baby doll eternally tied to one
and the robin blue slide now
sun bleached in some spots
and cloaked with moss in others
is the only place
our adult bodies still fit
Request permission to use this poem