Marye Trim: ‘Playground Graphics’

Playground Graphics

The Young Ones have taken over the playground.
My favourite swing where imagination soared, destroyed,
and the slide to classical thought, completely broken.
A local council’s faded sticker promises repair, yesteryear,
but someone has printed a vulgar word across it.
Only the capital B is bold enough to read. Balderdash?

The Young Ones have taken over the playground
although the round-about still glides. A group of nerds,
who never sleep, as far as I can tell, sit as if glued
by technology, and round and round they spin,
thumbs busy, fast, fearless. Smart. In parent-mode
I worry about their thumbs which must grow scabby.

Nah, said a Young One who could talk, and then began
to instruct me about Scams and Bits and Rams and Roms.
He knew it all, of Interface and awesome Traffic Code.
A green light glowed and ended our enlightening conversation.
Why did I see again the heights of Troy and Odysseus
and hear the keys of my great Remington clickety-clack

as it told their story, or typed several pages of a long letter
to my Love, composed upon the swing of hope and dreams?
Yes, the Young Ones possess the playground now, with Coke,
or something stronger, potato chips and chocolate for nourishment
of brain waves that require Structured Data or Application Programs.
But that’s ok. I had my turn. And memories are safe in Cloud Storage.

Marye Trim

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