1 minute read
Monkey bars Faith Falayi
from Sentire Issue One
by sentirezine
Monkey bars
Nobody told us that when you grow up you get old. All we wanted was to stretch our spines, flex our fingertips far enough to climb and hold, cling and swing from the monkey bars in the playground - small eyes watching small biceps pumping
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Where did the children go? The ones who strung their cares on the metal bars and flew laughter in on crumpled paper planes, the ones who tiptoed towards that sky-scraping silver staircase and made a game out of cold fingers and palms, cloudy days, aching arms, growing pains
Where did we go that day we realised we could touch without stretching?
We could touch without stretching. Reaching, without realising what we were reaching for,
feet firmly planted on the floor. Concrete swallowed sound and small eyes watching the giants on the playground.
