Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Old Swing
There’s an old swing
hanging from one of the trees
out back
that craves child’s play
They used to come and sway
every day
he says
and wonders why
they’ve stopped coming by
And not even the wind
though in a playful mood today
can make him forget
©2009 Fenny
16:56 Posted in Shards Of Life | Permalink | Comments (5) | Email this | Tags: poetry, swing
Comments
I love your poem. It reminds me a lot of Edna St Vincent Millay's lines, "Thus in winter stands the lonely tree, nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, yet knows its boughs more silent than before. I cannot say what loves have come and gone, I only know that summer sang in me a little while, that sings in me no more."
You've captured that feeling of loneliness and loss that makes the heart ache to read. Very nicely composed. I look forward to reading more of your writing.
Posted by: Ben | Tuesday, June 16, 2009
beautiful!
Posted by: saravanaraja | Wednesday, June 17, 2009
:)
Posted by: Nick | Monday, June 22, 2009
Fenny: Beautifully simple and succinct. A Kodachrome thought!
Posted by: Michael | Wednesday, June 24, 2009
One can't help but remembering things lost, and nothing can assuage the longing for those things we once held within our hearts. Once again, you move me with your words.
Posted by: Hazelmarie 'Mattie' Elliott | Friday, June 26, 2009
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