|
| old swing set (click to enlarge) |
|
NO LONGER NEEDED
The kids are grown,
And have long since moved away,
That old rusty swing set,
Out by the apple tree,
Sits in the choking weeds,
No longer needed.
Yesterday's laughter,
Echoes and catches sometimes,
In a soft summer breeze,
And in my mind,
Or sometimes, in my throat.
A playful wind,
Lonesome for youthful energy,
Pushes...but with little hope,
At the eerily still swings,
And soon give up,
For there is no need.
Once upon a...
Has it really been that long?
Since Childish squeals,
Mingled with squeaking chains,
Made the sweetest music.
Sometimes lately,
When the dishes have been washed,
Beds made, and laundry,
Temporarily put on hold,
I go outside,
To the swing set.
And there, alone,
Among the burr and thistle,
I stand for a long moment,
Holding to the rusty chains,
Of an old faded swing.
Waiting, listening,
To something clearly remembered,
And in that magic circle,
Of refreshed memories,
I close my eyes,
And am not alone.
Once more I hold,
Those grass stained hands,
And kiss a jelly smeared cheek.
Give first-aid hugs,
And 'all-better' kisses.
Slowly I walk,
Back to the waiting laundry.
One last look,
Over my shoulder.
Am I...today...like that old swing set,
No longer needed?
Norvona Jackson
06/24/06
|
)
