Swing: National Poetry Month 23 of 30
via WikiMedia Commons by Stilfehler |
Nothing
on a playground shouts freedom
like a swing.
Waiting
to soar
into the light blue sky.
Reaching
beyond the playground
above the school.
Flying
into the air
among the trees.
into the air
among the trees.
Gliding
with birds
in effortless flight.
Nothing
on a playground shouts freedom
on a playground shouts freedom
like a swing.
Cathy L. Mere 2014
I'm writing poetry for 30 days. For the first seven days of the challenge I wrote about "objects of memory," then "objects I just can't live without" and "school objects." For the next seven days I will be writing about objects that can be found on the playground. This will help me to prepare for a little poetry writing with students. Our class will be taking poetry around the building in the days to come.
Cathy L. Mere 2014
I'm writing poetry for 30 days. For the first seven days of the challenge I wrote about "objects of memory," then "objects I just can't live without" and "school objects." For the next seven days I will be writing about objects that can be found on the playground. This will help me to prepare for a little poetry writing with students. Our class will be taking poetry around the building in the days to come.
April is National Poetry Month. Again this year, inspired by Mary Lee Hahn, I'm joining other poetry bloggers (view links in sidebar) taking the challenge to share poetry each day during the month of April. For thirty days my hope is to write a new poem each day. The first two years I took this challenge I wrote any poem that found me. This year, however, I've decided to try to write a poem about an object each day. If you've read Billy Collins' poem, The Lanyard, you may have noticed the way he took an object to tell a much more meaningful story of his relationship with his mother. My hope is to find the deeper significance in the things around me.
The swing set always has been always will be my favorite part of a good playground! Hanging my head back and letting the wind rush past while pumping my legs as hard as possible. ..ah yes, the swings! Thank you for the memory jog!
ReplyDeleteSome big truth here, I think!
ReplyDeleteI was just swinging the grand-girls this past weekend. Screams abound, and 'higher, higher'. Just the best of all the playground. Neat to imagine the first swing! I remember thinking I might, if I pumped hard enough, fly. I like the structure you chose Cathy.
ReplyDeleteI adore the simplicity of this and the repetition of beginning and ending too. I am such a chicken that I can only go so high, but I can see the freedom when others swing!
ReplyDelete