Will you come out and play with me
By the meandering stream
Where silent mothers push
Empty carriages…
Where riderless tricycles squeak
Down the gently sloping hill…
Where timid flowers peek
Above dying grass…
Around the childless swing set
Always rocking…back and forth…
Devoid of any breath
To stir the chill air…
Together we will laugh and sing
Where soft young voices linger…
Echoing memories
Through the ghostly mist…
We’ll roll down the slippery bank
Into the clammy embrace
Of the icy river
To join the others…
Then one more voice will serenade
Another hollow mother
By the wandering stream…
Please…come play with me…