Swing

Photo courtesy of the author.

As the sun shines warming the noonday air,

The only sound for miles,

Seems to be the rhythmic creaking of chains,

Supporting my mid-life frame.

I pump my legs, propelling myself

Higher and higher,

Giddy,

Reminiscent in the simple freedom

Lost to the passage of time,

Of soaring,

Through the breeze,

On my favourite

Swing.