The Allusion

I see the swings swaying back and forth with laughing faces.

I see the benches with young people gazing into one another’s eyes.

I see kids playing tag, running for base.

I see a father and son playing catch, having such a good time.

Then I open my eyes.

The swings empty less.

The benches benchless.

A broken bat from broken dreams.

An empty playground.

Sitting there motionless.

A storm brewing over head.

Then I smile.

And I see those laughing faces again.