Walking by the playground
Where my son used to play
On endless afternoons. Sliding.
Bucket on his head. Pretending
He was the Artful Dodger
Running a hand across the dragon
I noticed
Two children on a seesaw
Or teeter totter; a long
Narrow board with a pivot point or
Sweet spot. In the middle.
A boy and a girl were laughing
As one went up
And the other went down
They bounced and balanced
Perfectly. Power dynamic
Shattered. Equanimity.
Sun dipping behind the clouds
I took another trip around the sun
Sat on a bench and wondered
What happens
On the way to adulthood
And the bedroom
And the board room
And the war room
Where everyone wants their own
And the sweet spot is lost
Photo Credit: ShanMcG213 Flickr via Compfight cc
