THE PURSUIT

With a mighty tug
the rope’s undone
leaving me free
to chase the sun.
I shout him a warning
I soar with a shove
higher and higher
lighter than a dove.
His light is blinding
the wind seems fierce
as it presses on my face
and whispers in my ears.
Toe on toe
the land falls by
bent on pursuit
I gain the sky.
I crow in triumph
I giggle with glee
I wiggle my thumb
in the face of gravity.
Just when it seems
I might touch the clouds,
the swing weighs down
and I touch the ground.

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