Can a maypole dream?

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.