The Swings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Swings can be a great escape...

Submitted: September 05, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 05, 2016

A A A

A A A


THE SWINGS

 

I work my short legs

hard up the steep

hills as I try

to erase from my mind

the kids laughing

at my shoes

that aren’t new,

my mom fussing

about something

I didn’t do.

Dad and Mom

fight and cuss

about me, I know;

Dad’s leaving.

 

I run up

the hills that

grow and rise

the stinging and burning

in my legs makes

all the wrongs go away.

I look only to

the sea of trees

ahead and there

I find the swings

where all that’s bad

matters little

to the air in my face

as I swing

higher and faster

almost like flying.


© Copyright 2017 Amy F. Turner. All rights reserved.

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