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
Copyright © Justin Clason | Year Posted 2022
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