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A morning visit to the park found an empty playground.  No one to play with that day.  No one with whom we could share our sand toys.  It was desparately quiet in a way playgrounds should not be.  This swing struck me as symbolic of the loneliness the playground exuded.  As if it sat patiently waiting for someone to ride; sending it sailing toward the sky, chains rattling, hinges squawking, laughter echoing.  No one came after us to shatter the quiet, yet I found it lovely in its solitude.

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