I haven't figured this out yet . . .

ABC’s Of My Children And Slides

At the tops and

Bottoms of slides, my

Children like to hang out and

Do nothing. Just sit. Waiting,

Ever so patiently

For time to pass by.

Generating tension with each second,

Half aware of their father, standing eagerly,

Impatiently, even, for something to

Jolt them into action. To

Kill the anticipation built by

Loitering on the slides.

My eyes might actually turn

Numb while staring at the

Only children on the

Planet, who would rather

Quietly linger above and below, than

Remove themselves

So that others might

Take advantage of the

Unlimited fun that slides have to offer.

Vehemently ignoring my suggestions to move,

Willingly oblivious; as if the slide were some kind of


Youth, I guess, affords one the luxury to

Zone out in unexpected places.


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