The Mother

The sunlight shone upon me,

as I bubbled like champagne.

Face glowing like a constellation,

stardust in my veins.



A child laughed, a glint of gold,

against black velvet plush.

The dancing green grass beckoned

as the kids began to rush.



They slid down spiraling slides and grinned;

a sidewalk child skipped.

They licked strawberry ice cream and

it dribbled on their lips.



Now the swings converse in creaky tones as

I watch the children play.

Recall my daughter’s once bright smile,

that’s now trapped in a grave.



Ghost-like, empty swing-sets scream.

Pink ice cream is too sweet.

A child falls and scrapes her knee,

on ruthless, cold concrete.



Children fall down the slippery slope

of the slide crudely covered in sweat.

Harsh breeze rustles tender grass;

children laugh, but I’ll never forget.