Ghost Park

 /   /  By Emma Birches
Stone Soup Magazine
March/April 2006

By Sariel Hana Friedman

Swaying wooden swings
Whisper to each other

The wind blows dry leaves,
Scattering messages across the park.

The white, lacy blur
Of a girl

Polished black boots drum along stone paths
As the boy calls out her name.

“Come back, Margaret!
I didn’t mean it!
Come back!”

Ghost Park Sariel Hana Friedman

Sariel Hana Friedman, 9
Pacific Palisades, Californii

About the Author

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