Longing For A Noon In A Waterpark Poem by Navy Rizkitavania

Time climbing around the corner of the wall, knocking on the locked door.
Peeking, whispering, asking.
'Is the best saved for last? '
The clock looking out in the window,
Nod.

The room is no different than any other room.
They placed the wooden bed and chairs in the back of a bookshelf as if it meant to be a hiding place.

The closet, with a mirror lack of view stand by a clock so tall it touch to the top, with only one dress and a boots to hang. Dusty enough to fill one hell of a hour glass. And start counting.

Up in the ceilings, they hang on a flying plane and fish that turn their face toward each other.
Sun break through over the big window with lacy curtains drawn in white dot and grey lines, searching for a face of the living that can be feed and loved.

Every furniture talk, and try to comfort one and another since they are left with a soul longing to belong.
They put aside their differences, stare at a park with slides and swings and splasher and water.
And kids, that breaths.

'It is a little bit lonely'
'It is indeed'.

And they wait and wait for the lady ghost who pay for a visit regularly, and tell them story of how we always come back where we come from.