Poetry

The Past Awaits Life

by

Carl Scharwath

Early dew drapes a shadow of slow morning footprints
Leading to an old swing set now a ghost of loving memories
Gentle knowing breezes kiss the swing to rebirth
Movement dances to the music of a young girls laughter.

A broken chain etches the sky in a harsh measurement of age
Tarnished oxidation reveals the outline of a timid hand
Fingers that once held in security and love ever tightly
Never daring to let go until that time we both knew was here.

Fall leaves in slow death, paint droplets across the horizon
The decrepit play set idles, its frame held strongly in concrete
Strength in time, enveloped in love, unmovable for all tomorrows
Echoes of a child reverberate in the hollows of a metal tube.

The backyard is quiet now a young dove finds solace in its new home
In time first flight will give purpose to a new future
She will always come home for the broken seat waits.
Legs pumping ever higher, we fly together never to return