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Watching Child’s Play (Poem)

My hand’s grasp onto this wooden fence as I peer over

the field is empty but it is filled with the joy of the children who roam it

when the day is at it’s youngest

I observe in the littlest of details

the footprints dented in the grass

and wooden planks used as baseball bats

to recall the moments…I was part of this, years and years ago

a steady rain sprinkles through the field

tiny splashes everywhere

children holler into the air

“prepare for battle!”

As they reenact war to play as heroes

throwing plastic balls

and swinging those plastic sticks

the boy with the army helmet cries out

“the enemy is up to their old tricks!”

dashing through the grass, over close to me

to hide behind the cardboard box

and large rocks

they look up to me sincerely and say

“you can play if you want.”


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