← v21n2, Fall 2022Poetry · Volume 21, Number 2
Swing
A metal frame, each side an A,
and a firm board, with a green bed
it holds, to hold you as you move.
A simulacrum of the breeze
that lifts live-oak limbs, myrtle boughs
outside the screen, around your ears,
a garland made of wind and green
you wear. You rest, suspended, ease
know you can’t stay the night, but slip
a minute into sweeter sleep.
