Night Swings

posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

It’s grey clouds

piled together,

like a thick, threatening pillow.

And black sky,

burping thunder.


It’s a swarm of youth;

dark hoods and hard tongues

buzzing playfully

like locusts,

Under a willow tree.


It’s sodden grass

under feet

and porridge mud

with thick toffee skin.

It’s the moon above me,

yellow, thick, and throbbing,

like sky’s blister.


It’s rusty chains

and green poles

that creak.

And feet becoming wings

which launch me.


It’s a haunting sky.

Feral hair

whipping rain in lashes

on my face

and falling into thunder

feet first.


It’s leaving earth.

Becoming black clouds

and mist.

And For one moment,

It’s feeling big.


It’s letting go,

It’s jumping.

And landing in a pile of legs

and grazed skin

and smiles.

It’s conquering again


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