midnight park, deserted.
ghostly swings’ hinges sing
and in-between is filled
with echoes of the afternoon.
the grass, freshly cut, has left its mark
on young lovers’ clothes,
has brought life to
old men’s flared nostrils.
graffiti is coarsely etched into
a weathered picnic table.
its words, light brown on grey wood,
read easily: “never again”,
dated september 11, 2001.
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