The Swings

April 21, 2008
By Moira McAvoy, Chesapeake, VA

Sunlight plays on their hair
Clouds glide by a bit slower
Splashes sound in the distance
And they are unaware

The chains clink against the posts
Their legs push them a bit farther
An ice cream man crawls on the street
And they become aware

Of the wind helping them up
Of how they felt a bit lighter
Of everything they tried to leave
And they let years slip

One of them slows and hops off
Walking to the slide, thinking a bit more
Wondering where the best days went
And she lets herself slip

All the years spent wishing to grow
Dissipate as the swings climb a bit taller
And they all try to grab at the tree branches
Reaching for what they let go

The playground erupts with laughter
They let the past close in a bit closer
And one of them grabs a tree branch
Holding what he had let go

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