Home » Poetry » Swinging



I reach for the sky as I cut through the air.
Riding the wind behind me is my long tangled brown hair.

As I rush back down, I notice the ugly brown dirt
and wonder ‘if I just let go, how much will it hurt?’

I keep pumping my legs as hard as I can
knowing it’s almost time to let go, just a matter of when.

I see tree tops, full and green
of new life and new things to be seen.

I am jealous of the birds who can fly all day
but know I must settle, as this is the only way

to reach higher and higher to float in the air
and leave every problem below without a care.

I give my last and final push as I’ve reached the highest point of my climb
and let go at the top, leaving all things suspended for a moment, even time.

5 thoughts on “Swinging

  1. interesting how the photo is all about stillness while the poem is full of movement. for me the poem is about a transition either into adolescence or adulthood. the irony is that the vehicle of movement is a swing, a classic childhood icon.
    why is the dirt ugly?

    • I really loved this photograph. Even though it juxtaposes the movement in the poem I love its stillness because for me, it captures that moment of suspension before you fall back to the ground. The dirt is ugly because for me as a kid, when compared to the beautiful blue sky and green trees, the dirt wasn’t as pretty. Too many bugs!

  2. Pingback: Swinging | Chronicles of a Not So Complicated Life

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