One warm Spring day my Sis and I
pranced to our park to play with friends
on lofty slides, a jungle gym,
and swings that launched us to the sky.
.
"Hold on those chains. I'll push you high."
I grabbed her seat, thrust forth my arms,
then raced between her outspread legs
and ducked my head as she flew by.
"Oh, Petey, look!" I heard her cry.
"I almost touched those willow leaves,
and that old pigeon way down there
is giving me the evil eye."
Her laughter caused a passerby
to stop and watch, then smile at her.
He said, "That gal don't need no wings.
An angel sure. That ain't no lie."
The swing slowed down and brushed my thigh.
"Oh, Petey, please don't let it stop!
Get me back up there with the birds.
Say you're not pooped, that you will try."
"Alright. Once more." I heaved a sigh
and pushed that swing heroically.
Her legs pumped hard to gain more height.
Aloft she yelped, "I . . . want . . . to . . . fly!"
I knew she would. Don't ask me why.
Up, up above the trees she rose
till pointed toes caressed the clouds.
Yes, gravity she did defy.
|
Author Notes
The painting is by Lash Larue, courtesy of Google images.
|
|
