A Forgotten Place

• Sandy Tugwood, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2007

I look from dusty window, at a windy road,
I breathe in a stale saw-dusty load.
A light breeze throws hair against my face,
The breeze picks up and blows towards the swings,
In a silent race.
I look at the odd playground, a five year-olds haven.
A bird squawks,
I look up from my thoughts,
It’s a raven