Poetry

The Summer Without Children

A sad reality

Photo by Denise Shelton

I went walking one fine day
Around the neighborhood
A few lone people passed my way
Like me, older I must say
Walking like we should

Like them, I try to slow the creep
Of what we can’t deny
And so we walk instead of rest
Doing what we know is best
At least we have to try

Soon I saw a grassy place
I had not known was near
It was, foremost, a children’s space
And curious I slowed my pace
There were no children there

There were slides and swings galore
Playing structures, grass and trees
Everything kids crave and more
Many should be here, a score
In summer doing as they please

But only one stray rabbit lopes
Across the wide expanse
The kids are safe inside, one hopes
A father frets, a mother copes
They dare not take a chance