The Evening Swing

A lonely swing hangs from a tree It seems as though it waits for me To share the joy of sunset sublime Something I feel, more than I spy Red and orange autumn skies Solicits me upward on every try Higher up towards the sun Then back down, just for fun Arching under blazing leaves Burning hotter with each swing As wind whistles at my ears and hair My feet go flying through the air Soon, my sway fades with dimming light The tree limb holds me quiet and tight As the two of us share the sky And a moment in painted time