A poem
⁂
A girl, little with frizzy hair, asked sweetly,
Did he have to put a knife in his heart?
Her mother said no,
and that was all.
A woman, grown,
hobbled on one crutch to the swing set
and cast her crutch to the ground.
She sat on one of the swings and started to and fro,
free from it all,
and feeling the wind,
for only a bit.
A man, homeless maybe,
ambled in and laid down on the small dented slide,
meant for kids otherwise,
and dozed.
Restless dreams, or nothing?
What sends the human heart dreaming?
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