M is for merry-go-round.
Merry go round time fell down, you aren't where you used to be.
In that
neighborhood I went to
fourth grade at a new school, I made new friends and let go of old ones that were far away. I learned to ride wheelies on my bike by falling on my ass a hundred times. Built tunnels and
sand castles in the
volleyball court, moats and pits for people to trip in and swear about. I played
soccer with my dad, the time he kicked the ball and it hit me smack in the face so hard I tipped over stung bright red and maybe crying. We spent afternoons climbing the stumpy trees and peeing behind the bushes instead of using the
restrooms with their gritty sand on floor and unflushed
toilets.
Last night we went looking for the merry-go-round at Chintimini Park and it was gone. All the rusty old
playground equipment with sharp metal edges and splintery wood was replaced with bland plastic structures planted in a matt of
sawdust. Impossible to hurt yourself rounded edges and garish bright colors instead of flecking chipped paint worn down to polished metal in the favorite places.
Promised her I would spin the world around while she lay on her back and watched the
stars twirl. Instead we went back and forth on the
swings, the only halfway between aged things left behind. I swung high as I could until the chains made that chunky half falling near the top and then jumped out. The still calm weightless right before falling is the best, then two feet on the ground with a thump. Hung my head backwards and watched the ground rush past upside down inches away, welcome back yesterday.
Promised her yes sure, but things aren't the way they were. I would like to live in a back then (
remember when) but nothing stays how we froze it, not even ourselves.