The swing in the garden
left unattended years together
creaks and croaks as the wind blows.,
not being oiled and wiped for long.
Gone are the days when it used to be the pride
swinging with head held high
up and down it flew in speed
making the least noise.
One day a fluffy cat cuddles
slips into slumber as the swing
oscillates gently, The swing adjusts
a meek acceptance anyway.
The next day, I find a flock of birds
perched on either side
cackling and chirping
dropping excreta everywhere.
The coveted swing hosts
different species extending
a let go attitude, The virtue learnt
in the most hardest means.
Meenas Poems 