In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ode to a Playground.”
An Ode To A Playground: PNCLS
We were like monkeys in the jungle gym hopping the squares of childhood, swinging our freedom like trapeze actors, learning how to fly.
In every hour, stark, green grasses around, waved greetings of Aloha, absent of check points or many gates that would fall and entrances that would scan thumbs or asked for passwords.
Mornings were beautiful, for us, with newly mown grass, fresh and fragrant like bread, with moist shimmer of rain,
mirrored a paradise.
Happy kids and teens of school, nurtured and grown, free and happy cool, in a second home of future teachers and leaders.
I ran the grounds, dancing when no one else was watching and when the boys played “Cops and Robbers,” I released allies and defied foes’ speed and vigor; it’s “Girls VS Boys!” Suddenly boys would grip on my white uniform and snaps would rip, yet I still ran my life. An hour of running freely made our bodies stronger.
The playground served us well. And while we went home at dusk, the sky rested in shades of grey and solemnly covered our earth for the next day of play, again.
/rosevoc2. Oct 3, 2015.