Outside My Window For Contest
A lonely old wooden swing suspended in complete stillness
Gripped by ropes stained with memories of childhood
It hangs faithfully to the strong arms of the huge oak tree
Golden leaves hang off the dry rippled branches by a thread
Their yellow and brown comrades surround them
A gentle wind sending them fluttering on their last flight
Through musty damp air down to wet ground below
The dreaded smell of death for non-deciduous trees
The swing waits patiently and calm
Protected by its giant friend
It starts to sway slowly back and forth
Demonstrating its approval from outside my window
As I present my new born daughter to her future friends
Sarah Bryant
16 September 2015
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