have they all grown?

where are

the children, the flies

that used to buzz about the courtyard,

the playground?

have they

all grown,

have their short days been

made shorter

by the leash

of parents and home?

where is the round

ball,

the stick bat,

the carboard box

for a base,

the yells and screams, 

as they fought

off the daylight

before being called in.

are they us now?

staring out the windows,

longingly,

remembering

the joy

back then.