Memory's Playground

The rusted swings hang chained up, still,

The playground gleams with broken glass

A wilderness of weeds- the path

Where once I walked to go to school.

Now 'hoodies' rank like hooded monks

Loiter swigging Buckfast wine

Graduates from ASBO school

Have taken over our domain.

We played there many years ago

In Markies quilted anoraks

In my mind, the memory plays,

Youngsters then with time to kill.

We planted saplings in that year

Helped council workers dig

Our photos in the local rag

Young and green like nascent leaves.

Where my brother's head was split

In hours of carefree summer days

And I was knocked down by a car

The driver never gave his name.