#NationalPoetryMonth The Rope Swing
Until I get my latest reviews up for your reading pleasure, here’s a little something of mine. Hope you enjoy it!
Since we’re still short on #FabulousFridayGuestBloggers, you get . . . tada! . . . ME. I’ll just fill in with whatever seems like a good idea at the time, until we get back on schedule. And since it’s still National Poetry Month, here’s a poem of mine. It’s been in the early 90’s here, already, so my thoughts have turned to hot summer days. Hope this little boy’s enjoyment of one captures your imagination.
THE ROPE SWING
Sailing up, up into
Blue summer sky,
Hot rope rough against his hands,
He shouts with joy, and lets go.
For a crystal moment,
He hangs suspended,
Frozen in time
Like a fly in amber.
All awkward angles–
Shoulder blades and
Elbows, and
Knobby knees,
Painted against the sky,
Heart filled with fierce joy.
Dropping, down, down
Into clear green water
Cold on his skin,
He sinks to the silty bottom,
And sits suspended
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