The Swing at My Grandparents’ House

We rarely noticed

the slow stretch

of shadows, or loss

of the sun at dusk.

Back then, days lasted

for days.

Not a swing for solitude,

two bench seats faced

across a platform.

I clambered aboard

with six cousins,

a giddy effervescence

flickering through me

as the platform wobbled—

the pure sensation

of moving in a new way,

like a 3-D toy you wear—

then we’d ride

into the visions

we’d spin.

Back then, we couldn’t hear

the steady tick

of an escapement

or the turning

of the gears in our lives,

as the swing moved

back and forth

like the pendulum

of a grandfather clock.

Pam Lewis

Pam Lewis’ work has appeared in various regional and national publications. Now retired, she enjoys the many opportunities for learning, and the natural beauty of Madison, WI.

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