The once bright colored slide was now
faded from the bright sun roasting its color away
during the hot summer days. The lake
was like clear glass, not a boat shattering
it’s beauty. The only sound was the ripples
bouncing off of the bobbing raft blowing in
the warm breeze.

You could see the tall yellow
slide on top of the raft from
a distance, as if it was a mountain.
I can tell it’s homemade, because
of the carefully nailed-down wooden boards
and how the slide looks like it has
been taken off of an old play set,
and placed onto the floating raft in the water.

The slide has not been used in a while, perhaps the
children have grown up. You could hear the lonely
whispers of the wind soaring between the cracks
of the wooden ladder leading up to the slide.

The slide has so many memories of the children playing,
But now there is nothing but silence, like an old abandoned
house. They will come back one day and remember all
the memories they once had here.