The creaking swing
in my garden
once so lively
has fallen silent.
Noisy and oscillating
all through the evening.
the swing worked over time
when my kids were around.
My heart swings with
the thoughts present and past,
engaging in an introspection,
as i see her lying still.
Painted in deep green,
it falls in line with the lawn
roses, hibiscus, and jasmine
dotted with crotons.
Set under a canopy of trees
the swing goes on its own
recently, gently with the breeze.
violently with strong winds.
Meenas Poems 