Swingset Chains

Blue flip-flops abandoned
Feet plunge into thick green grass
Cool and almost moist on skin

Toes dive in again

Again
Pushing
Releasing

Grass left behind

Feeling the falling
Relishing it
Feeling the flying
Relishing it

Face turned upward

No fear in the falling
No fear in the flying

These rusty chains hold firm
These chains that keep me swingset-bound
Hold me back
Restrict my path

There'd be no falling
There'd be no flying
No relishing at all
Without them

Marissa Thompson, 2014