Monday, March 4, 2013

Summer, 1973

This challenge is taking form in my mind... a triangle...
a meditation of my past, present, and future... spirit,
mind, and body... love, truth, and wisdom... 

As I sift through the pile of snapshots in my mind,
my eyes are drawn to one specific memory... 
and I smile.

Summer, 1973 

Painted steel swing set
in backyard.
Tan legs pumping
to go higher,
bare feet, toes pointed.
Reaching out
past deep grass
over small white wire fence,
caging blurs of pink and yellow
snapdragons in garden.
I lean back, arms extended.
Green eyes squint
to see the cloudless sky.
Looking down again,
my eyes follow shadows
gliding below legs.
Metal chains in hands creak.
The air hums,
cool on my freckled cheeks,
and blows strawberry-blonde hair
from my forehead.
I fly.


  1. I've decided to comment on the three people who posted before me, and this is the second time in 4 days that I have commented on yours. We must have similar schedules or something. Swinging is one of life's most basic pleasures. I tell my students that a lot. I still love taking my kids to the park, and (if it isn't crowded) flying up in the air just the way I used to when I was little. I love your reflections on your childhood.

  2. I love the picture that was painted in my mind through your beautiful writing! :)

  3. I was flying with you.
    Your poem was flying.
    I squinted at the sun, and could see the snapdragons.
    My mom planted then as well.

  4. As I pictured you swinging I was worried, I remembered why, it was the time the chain broke. Slows down the flying.