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Swing
November 5, 2014
Legs lurching forward,
Sharp, then back; head toward Heaven,
Fingers formed around the chains, knuckles taut—
Liberating.
I can feel the wind under my wings;
A swallow in the trees,
Weaving through the abstract tapestry
The air has given me.
I swing,
I fly,
I float,
I am free.
© Margaret G., Hillsborough, NJ
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I got the idea for this piece while swinging at a campsite and watching tree swallows circle around me. They looked so gleeful, flittering about.