Frost covers the earth,
Gilding the world in a coat of silver.
A cool wind whistles through the air,
Bringing with it the crip air of fall.

The playground stands empty
And deserted...forgotten.
The swings creak and sigh in
The gentle wind, a lonely sound.

For a moment, I can see children
playing there, running up and down
the Slide, flying off the swings.
I can see life and laughter

Smiles on their faces as they
Find slugs and ants in the rotting log
Shouts of joy echo in the playground
As they leap down from trees.

With a start I find myself
Back on the silent playground.
The children are gone now,
Swallowed up and taken away

By the black brick building nearby
It's great metal doors open
Each morning, beckoning
the children to come in.

It takes them in, spoon feeding
Them textbook information
That dulls the senses, though
It claims to better their souls.

At the close of each day
The heavy doors swing open
letting out a stream of weary children
Their arms weighed down with
paper work to take home.

They pause for a moment,
Looking at the empty playground
I see a light enter their eyes as they
think of the wonder and life they found there.

They take a hopeful step towards it,
Then stop--weighed down
By the loads of assignments
And work in their arms.

With one last longing glance, they turn away
From the brightly colored place.
They have no time for such things.
They head for home, to finish their work.

I watch them leave, their shoulders bent
Under backpacks and books.
I wonder how I would look, burdened too
I shake my head, dispelling the thought.

The children slowly pass from sight
Moving along together,
Like lifeless boxes on a
Slowly moving conveyor belt.

And I, I turn back to the empty playground
Kicking off my shoes, I run up and down the slide
I leap onto the swings, flying up and into the air
Free.