No Park in the Walk

the monkey bars

are rusted through

and slide is tiresome long

­–rings too far to reach

–swings too hard to teach

the merry-go-round a creaking circle of dizzy

though it is

around.

seated, then, on bench

still slick with morning dew

and cool from the night

I tie my shoes

in bows

–carefully

carefully–

behind pond

missing ducks

pooled shine in dawning sun. . .

between cat tails

and sedge–

I gaze.