at the sand pit

on the swings
at the sand pit,
the children rock back and forth.
swaying
beneath a harsh
blue sky.
the mothers are to the side
sitting.
talking.
wrapped in coats and colorful
scarves
picked
in a different world,
a distant time. much of
their lives are still
before them,
but it's different now.
with husbands lost in work
and weekend chores.
golf and friends.
drinking and television.
the children
want little more than to
be pushed
upwards, back
and forth. that's enough
for now.
their desires and needs
are yet
to be defined. and the wives,
as one,
have a look of uncertainty
locked within
their eyes.