After the Bell

The bell has gone, the hallways still

Dust in the light on the windowsill

A paper kite lies torn and still

And the wind keeps moving over the hill

The painted swings began to sway

Though no one's left in the yard today

Chain by chain, they softly complain

Like a memory calling my name

Creak, creak

Swing in the breeze

Empty seats and a worried ease

Creak, creak under the trees

I'm the only one the silence sees

Backpack's closed and the field looks wide

Orange sun on the other side

I hear the gate as it slows and sighs

Like the day letting go of its ties

Creak, creak

Swing in the breeze

Empty seats and a worried ease

Creak, creak under the trees

I'm the only one the silence sees

So I walk on slow

Through the fading cold

With a creak of the swing

Where the stories fall