It is faded now
For it is only made of plastic
that cannot withstand the sun’s rays
bearing down on it day after day
It stands shabby among the grass,
a remnant of days past
The back of the seat is broken
I see two screws inside, it is no longer
safe for a ride, the safety belt
that comes with it is frayed and
dirty, yes the swing is muddy too
I doubt that anyone should ever want
to take a ride
I remember it like it was yesterday,
my son, only one year old, the swing set new
and like a pot of gold, vibrant, a colorful witness to
happy afternoons of garden time
I am weeding the grass as my two year old
swings gently by my side
He smiles and I smile back at him
I remember the white sleeveless shirt
and shorts he wears
with bedroom slippers on his feet
How pudgy he is, all fat with a chin so round
We sit on the ground and he takes
the piles of weeds I pulled
As many as his tiny fists could hold
I am a curved figure tending over grass
but he is a coiled spring bursting with life
“Mama look at me” he’d say as he runs around
and plays in the garden while I sit and watch
“Ouch”, I say as he climbs my hunching back to
stop me from what I am doing
so he can tackle me down in pure mirth
I glory in his birth and feel the ground no longer there
We are high up in the air laughing among the clouds
Dreaming sweet dreams and laughing too
The sky was blue, then, I shake myself awake
from this fancy reverie
My son is gone and he’s no longer three
I don’t know what his dreams are anymore
or if he even thinks of me
The swing set is faded now
One of these days, maybe I’ll just
put it away
