Swing Me

I’ve got a
sky-swing
8 miles high

fingers curl
‘round
rope-wings–
fly

wooden bench,
two seats
wide…
you pump,
I pump
rubbing thighs
in fullness
of kick
and clouds
comes down

toes reach
gravitas slips
away
   
hair
sweeps ground;
sky opens up
swallows me
down

until
just
the right
moment when
I jump
to the ground.

the hardest part is the landing.

Comments

  1. says

    My Dad built my sister and I a swing set under the big tree in our yard when I was a little girl. It was just two swings, but they were so high. We felt like we were flying when we really got going.
    I can remember swinging and singing our hearts out in that wonderful time of day when the sun was setting.

  2. says

    Thank you thankyouthanyouthanks for a great start to my morning!
    Wheeee!!!
    (The higher I get, the worse I land. That’s why I don’t pump as hard when I know the crash will come.)

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