Swings | All Grown Up

Swings

 

Sneakers dug into dirt

swings-313308-m
Photo: Courtesy of CathyK

Let go, fly high

Taking this moment to revert –

Swinging to and fro.

 

Eyes closed, nostrils flared

Higher and higher, I persist

Leaving all behind, though scared…

Cold metal chains, firm in fist

 

Maintain my flow, nearly hypnotic…

Decades have passed, but I survive

Revisiting a time so chaotic

Up, up – must stay alive.

 

Was it when I scribbled my first check?

No, that can’t be when I grew…

Before everything was high tech?

No… I’m sorry, that’s untrue

 

Higher, higher, and here I go

Readying to take flight

When was I aware I’d grown?

Legs stretched, gather my might

 

Riding the back of the wind,

Bracing myself to come back down,

Yet refusing to be confined

No more pain or tears will I drown…

 

Years and strife, all this behind…

The answer is quite clear.

Age is not how I’m defined,

Tiny spark remains – year after year.

 

© Susan Reed

 


 

 

This poem was written in response to today’s Daily Post Prompt:

All Grown Up

When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?

Advertisements

One thought on “Swings | All Grown Up

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s