The Abandoned Backyard

The abandoned backyardis lonely now.

It’s neglected look is sad somehow.

There are no more shrieks and shrills

 A playground purpose it no longer fulfills.

Unmown grass encroaches on disheveled stacked bricks.

Weathered urn still filled with Sansevieria leaves like sticks.

What secrets hide in the dark, dense, secretive underbrush?

Do I see pairs of eyes looking through the Palmetto so lush?

Beside the bricks stands a battered old light with titled shade.

Were dark spotsby weather or maybe living creatures made?

Something obscure lies atop the neglected grass twixt brick and fronds.

Is worn shovel lying alone on bricks the remains of wizard’s wand?

No more the children run and play as once they did here.

No more do adults fire up the grill as they drink their beer.

No more is heard the sound of the mower cutting the lawn.

No more do people toil and play because all life is now gone.