Sunday, July 22, 2012

Maybe

'Hemingway' sterling silver, paper, ink, mica;
Kathleen Faulkner;  photo:  David Scherrer

I look out my window at the school playground.  It is empty except for the girl.  I watch her swing in the hard rain,  singing

Another day I work in my garden. Evening approaches and I hear the girl singing as she swings,  alone

She is there often, most every day, for long periods.

I hear the swing as I write this.  I look.  She is there.  It is getting dark now.  It rains hard.

Something about it makes me sad.

I wonder.