In Christie Pits

The wading pool is emptied out
The trees have left their leaves about
You wear no coat, but breathe a cloud
In puffs that float, above the crowd
At play in Christie Pits

Last night the swings were flipped around
You try to reach them from the ground
Your sister climbs to set them back
While father mimes a heart attack
Brought on at Christie Pits

You snack on fruit and carrot sticks
On cans of pop and peanut mix
You heed the words from all the mums
To feed the birds but not the bums
Who sleep in Christie Pits

The swing is swung, the slide is slid
The climbers climbed, the rides all rid
It’s time to go, you beg to stay
A second NO! You turn and say
Goodbye to Christie Pits

by Heather Emme

To read all the #verseday poems, click here. To read my twitter poems, click here.

 

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