Indifference is a playground waiting
for kids to emerge, but no one coming.
Kids jumping, laughing, dancing
like the children a few blocks down,
somehow still isolated, alone.
Swing screws creek when the wind rustles—the only sound.
Slides, swing riders, seesaws with no one,
Like a funhouse at a birthday party, now empty,
still isolated, alone.
An abundance of equipment to be used, but now
it was just an old playground echoing in the distance.
Kids didn’t hang on the monkeybars, climb the
rockwall, or sit in the sand pit.