The Swing's Last Song

Mama’s oak watched over me

its wide arms holding rope and plank

while I swung through the summer air

each push a small prayer

to whatever gods care about going higher

Her voice drifted in the wind

"Pump your legs sweet child reach for the sky"

The swing held secrets

clouds tasted like cotton candy dreams

the earth spun dizzy beneath my bare feet

and flight lived in that tiny pause

between going up and coming down

I soared again and again

arms wide like bird wings

hair streaming behind me

shadow skipping across the grass

to the rhythm of my heartbeat

Until the day her voice fell silent

Until the rope wore thin

and memory had to take its place

Until the oak kept watch over quiet

Now I am fifty seven

time blurring its edges

but I still feel that weightless moment

the surrender when the earth let go

and I flew higher and higher

on wings made of childhood

and Mama's laughter

The swing is empty now

But somewhere between breath and being

I am still flying

Still reaching for the sky

Still ten years old endless as summer

while her voice drifts in the wind

a blessing a song

that carries me

through all the falling days