“The Swing”

The swing set
under the tree,
summer humming
to you and me.

Little red shoes,
baseball cap in blue
swinging away
each tiny bruise.

Free as birds,
light as air
when you are young
you don’t have a care.

If we had met
when we were seven
I wonder if 25
would now be heaven.

I can’t hold on
much longer.
Our swing set
used to be stronger.

The swing set
under the tree,
summer humming
to you and me.

Our grips slip
but don’t hit the ground.
Both of us ghosts
never to be found.

Photo by Megan Nixon on Unsplash

©2020 Jai Lynn

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