Tiny Hopes

Snow laden jungle gyms and swings laced in frost stand as silent monuments as the pure hearted frolick. From one end of the playground a small boy squeezes his hand within his thick woolen mitten, small digits chaffed by the subsero winds. His eyes lay focused on a small girl sitting atop a jungle gym, and he hopes that she will see him and wave back. Small fingers waving, hoping. Wave back.