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From the Comfort of a Chipped Brown Bench

Willow trees in the distance are blowing in the wind

Whisking away cracked multi-colored leaves

Bee buzzing around small flowers in the field

Stay away; we don’t want a repeat of the summer of 2009

Constant chirping lets me know that I am not alone

Tanbark withholding the memories of many children

Emptiness now encompassing the brown plastic playground

Abandoned like the night we got drunk here on Four Loko

Cobwebs decorate the wooden plank arch over my head

Flies circle viciously around the dirty water fountain

The gray house is still abandoned to my left

Recycle bin and trash can still sitting patiently at the curb

Overwhelming scent of grass is making me itch

Like those stale red velvet whooping pies

An old man sits on the adjacent green bench

Cloud of smoke following him to the seat

Eyes directed forward with a blank stare

The same stare plastered across my own face

Ants crawling in and out of the concrete

Does he remember the pies too?

Puffing in, he still seems deflated

As flat as the soccer ball over there with a giant hole

In the shade cast by the small slide is a lonely plant

A seemingly forgotten plant left in the shade to care for itself

Limping over, hoping someone will pull it out of the ground

Ending its misery, it does not belong there

These trees won’t take their eyes off of me

The sun is beaming on my jeans; I should’ve worn the dress

That blue dress from graduation night

When you first said that you loved me

A car honk brings me back

The man is still here, searching

Unaware that we have spent the morning together

Trying to find meaning in the abandoned basketball courts

Never making eye contact

I should have got out when I had the chance.

 

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