Swings creak in turmoil
As the wind pushes them to and fro.
I sit next to the empty yellow hammock seats
that hold a child’s dreams,
dreams of adventure, battles, love, rescue, and happily ever after,
no matter how old the youngster actually is.
The vessel made of chains and rubber,
Carries me back to when you were here.
What did you think
Comments
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I had to read this twice, it's filled to the brim with symbology and meaning. Great write. For me this has a mix of desolation (empty, the relentless wind, creaking, made of chains and artificial rubber) but a subtle glimmer of neutrality or even nostalgia with the last line. I love the way the first line starts the poem in an vivid, emotional, chaotic way, then the last line is the perfect contrast describing stable detachedness.
Swings, moving, creaking, turmoil
To>>
Carrying, you were here.
I like the concept of the swing carrying, or holding a child's dreams, when at the end you have grown up and are no longer sitting on the swing, but looking at it and analyzing it. However, you still find yourself dreaming, now only in a subdued detached way of "when you were here".
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