After the Bell

The road crew had the main street blocked

so I cut through the school park—

a route I never take.

Just before dark.

One swing still moving—

slow arc, diminishing,

the chain making a small tick

at the top of each pass.

The seat had turned slightly sideways

the way they do

when the weight has already left

and no one's told the swing yet.

I stood on the path

and watched it stop.

Took maybe a minute.

The last tick was so quiet

I wasn't sure I'd heard it

or only decided I had

once the chain went still.

There's a light just before dark

that makes empty things look like they're still in use.

I was already late.

I stood there another minute anyway.