Thursday, March 29, 2012

the swing

the playground
is full
of birds
where the swing
once swung above
the sand and grass.
the shadows of
the trees are
longer now
where i pushed
him into the air.
the old fences are
older still, some
down. i can
hear him say,
higher, go higher
dad, and his laugh
flying in the
autumn air.

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