The Playground

a midnight breeze

rattles chains of swings

the sounds of crickets and cars

say the world is still turning

two hearts sit

on a lily pad bridge

cups of caffeine the only evidence

of their hectic lives tonight

of what do they speak?

the wind will never tell.

for this is their reprieve, their solitude

the angels themselves stand guard over it

here they tell all

here their chaos ends

and there dreams begin

here is love: true, and unconditional

to some, it's a playground

to them, it's magic.