On the Playground
The bypassing kids looked at me hastily with their eyes sparkling, foreheads sweaty
but somehow they weren’t tired.
The girl climbed onto the swings with her hair being a mess, even though she was visibly bigger than him still the little boy pushed her.
Laughing loudly and showing all his teeth just like I do when I see the trees again with the sun shining through them,
I feel the little boys energy just by looking at him.
I recognise her smile,
it’s soft but genuine, the excitement of swaying higher and higher, beaming from her face.
I never really cared for children,
I heard their laughs but I rolled my eyes when they cried.
Then you came along and I hesitated, in those little children I saw us.
And for a moment raising a little you whom I would give all the care and affection in the world, sounded close enough to achieve,
safe enough to do.
Next time I saw you I wondered where the twinkle from your eyes and the childish innocence hid.
In the broad shoulders you built
like a brick wall to protect you from growing up?
Maybe deep inside your heart those youthful laughs still echo, escaping when a far relative brings up how tall you’ve grown.
Would you push me on the swings?
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