Empty Blue

The fence was tall, with 'No Trespassing' bold.

But I looked through, the gate half-swung.

The pool was dry, a story told

of summer joy, now left unsung.

The cracked concrete, a bone-white bruise,

where water used to shimmer deep.

Faint algae green, like old news,

a ghost of what the walls would keep.

No splashing now, no echoing shout.

Just tired grey, and a leaf or two.

The world outside, it carries on, without

the promise of that empty blue.

A hollow space, beneath the sun,

where all the summer fun is done.