The Swing

She watches him pack his bags
Staring as he throws things down
Walking away she refuses to turn around
Out the door she goes
Refusing to let him walk out on her
She walks out on him

She goes to the swing
He was the one to hang it from that tree
She sits pushing off the ground to get a head start
Pumping her legs back and forth
The air glides past her

Away from the pain she wont let herself feel
The sky rushes to meet her face
Inviting her to lose herself
She accepts and closes her eyes

He yells out to her
Wanting to say goodbye
She doesnt see him wave
Wont look while he puts his bags into the trunk
Can't help to hear the slaming of his car door
His tires rolling over the gravel road

Her eyes still closed to the world
In her head she erases his picture
In her heart the picture is drawn in ink
Impossible to erase

Swinging higher, faster
The air seems to pick up speed
Drying the tears as they stream from her eyes
He remembered his bags but not what he calls baggage
Leaving his daughter to swing alone

Ashley Powell's picture

Last updated April 30, 2011