Teeter-Totter.


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.

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