The Maypole stands
In the deserted field
Of a ruined school
A tree stands beside
Gnarled branches lifted
Black from soot and ash
The maypole’s paint
Is cracked down
And faded
The ribbons
Have gone save four
Lost to the wind
Yet it stands tall
Left behind
Waiting for a dance
A dance by children long gone
A dance with ribbons long lost
A dance to celebrate a day that never came
The maypole stands
Alone save for the breeze
And the dying tree
Yet something is stirring
The broken gate opens
And a girl runs in
She runs up to the school
And in the ruined door
As the maypole watches
Then she runs out
Her eyes sweep the empty field
And rest on the maypole
She runs up to it
And touches its cracked paint
And grips the faded ribbon
And she dances
Round and round
A dance to celebrate nothing
Then when she is tired
She curls up beside the maypole
And sleeps beside it
The maypole stands guard through the night
Then like a sentinel
Brings in the day
The girl wakes slowly
Pulls herself up
And takes the ribbon
Then she dances again
Skipping around
Hair flying in the breeze
Suddenly she hears something
And cocks her head to listen
She hugs the maypole
Then she’s running off
To the broken gate
Without a backward glance
And the maypole is alone
In the empty field
Of the ruined school
And slowly
Weakened by the movement
The child’s ribbon frays
The ribbon breaks at the top
Leaving no trace it ever existed
Leaving no trace of the girl
The maypole is alone
And there is no evidence of the child
Maybe it never happened
Do maypoles have dreams?
Do they dream of children dancing?
And sleeping beneath their peeling paint?
Yet maybe it did happen
For caught on a tree
In the next field
There’s a grey ribbon
Its colour long faded
Caught on a branch
It waits for someone to take it
But no one comes
For there’s no one there
There’s no one anywhere.
and slightly hyper @ the moment*
