Eleanor on the Playground
One day a man came
and poured concrete over my head.
I was relieved that someone
had finally taken action.
Doodle ©Luigi Scarcella
For years we stood in the cold
with the wind raking our faces,
in the summer with the heat
pressing us into the ground.
We were trapped
beneath the monkey bars.
You rested your head
on the hollow metal steps
near the slide and when you
lifted your cheek, there were
little O’s imprinted on it.
Your husband weaved inebriated
up and down the street.
My husband was fused
to the chair in his cubicle.
We could not ooze out
through the X’s in the mesh fence.
One day a man came
and poured concrete over my head.
I was relieved that someone
had finally taken action.
A blue jay alighted on my shoulder
and set to squawking.
That roused you.
Just before he cast you,
you slipped into a little girl’s backpack
and she smuggled you out.
