They brought me feathers

I stand in my usual spot
Anxious elder wantant face
In the schoolyard
Tick tock Mr wolf
Inner child looking for its parent
stood amidst a croud
I am not alone
Four or five my size
greet with a smile
The rest have no or quick eyes for me
I feel alone
I used to dance
To feel the eyes burning my eyes
Now I dance with theirs
But it is my old playground
Where my inner child is fast
Cutting the ground beneath my feet
Remembering only a few names
As the younger parents steam past me
I always seem to make it to my spot
This morning their was gifts for me there
Today they brought me feathers.
My name was Heather here.
Heather feather.
Today my son cuts the ground
Around the new caretaker.
Now the feathers are gone.