8 Ways of Looking at a Swingset

May 5, 2011
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Among the entire playground,
The only thing moving was the swings
Rocking gently in the wind’s soft spring breath
As the child hoisted himself onto the swing,
It transformed into a pirate ship
Shooting canons left and right as it sailed into the sky
Swings and slides are one
Swings, slides, and children are one
The swings hung in the air limply,
Abandoned by an embarrassed teenager
He had moved on from his days playing in the swings
The rain distorts the swings image
Through the window streaked with water
Falling glass beads keeping the college graduate from revisiting his childhood
When did he get too big to play, he wonders.
The wood is rotting.
The swingset must come down.
A patch of dirt settles over the soft, green canvas
Where a swingset once stood
It might be rebuilt, someday
The man gently pushes his son
On a swingset made of sturdier, more with-standing metal
Built just last year
He misses the splintery wood, for a second,
But the metal is better, he decides.
And besides, it’s still a swingset

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