Uncle Joey took us to the playground today

her, and me;

only sifting suggestion in the sandbox by the tree

of the castles I imagined back before

the times when I would come alone to play


(older days, I’d pay ten cents to make pot holders

in the school where the air was cool and we’d sit close

and talk some)


Uncle Joey really liked the playground, he said

the slide was hot

she, climbing behind me, neared the top

and I thought

looking down into the shining tin I saw

her eyes reflect where mine had been instead


and, Uncle Joey caught us at the bottom.


Then, Uncle Joey put us on the see-saw, leaving

her, with me;

and, watching, he waited in the sand box by the tree

building castles unimagined from a time

and form and place beyond the mind’s conceiving


Will Uncle Joey still return to play alone

this evening?




© Ruth Ann Scanzillo

March 1981

all rights reserved. Thanks.


One thought on “Teeter-Totter.

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