Swinging

High above the red hot sand,

just before the cliff's edge

exists a century old tree

with two ends of a rope

tied to its still sturdy limbs

and a cheap plank of wood

with two small holes

to hold the opposite ends of rope

as children swing back and forth

and look out to the vast ocean blue

with wind whirling around their innocent curls

and smiles that out shine the sun.

—

Oh how eerie! it is to think

that this same day in 1692

could've had puffy gray cloud cover

with wind stinging along their skin

as they look out at a dull sea

swinging back and forth

with ropes around their necks

and the opposite ends around a tree

as the color fades from their faces

high above the red hot sand,

just before the cliff's edge

where the children now fly with glee.

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