Swing

Kimberly Law

Walking on the wood chips that cover the playground

I feel the floor take in my weight and uphold me easily.

I am weaving through the structures towards the swing, which has no guards like the toddler swings.

As milli-distance is lessen, my eyes grow wide and a flutter starts in my chest cavity,

Like millions of butterflies looking for an escape.

And in my mind, I hear the child in me say, “I have the swing to myself, I have the coolest toy on the playground to myself!”

I scoot up onto the swing and I start the motion of rocking.

With my legs straight out, then bent back

Over and over again, my legs are out and back, out and back, out and back

Until I am swinging to my fullest potential!

Until I swear I could reach the sky from where I sat swinging.

My legs grow tired and

Slowly I start to descend, rocking gently with my legs crossed at my ankles.

My feeling of elation, of reaching the sky has transformed into peace.

For I have reached as far as I could then.

And to myself I say, “Maybe someday I’ll reach even higher. When the world is at ease and my neighbors are not robbed of their security.”

By now rocking has ceased.

I scoot off the swing and the wood chips give in a little as my feet settle over them.

I walk home slowly, taking into me the light breeze that has cascade over the tree.

All the while enjoying my moment on the swing.