Empty Swing

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Painted yellow, glowing in amber light;
Suspended from a thick sturdy bar of metal,
Through pearls of orange metal knots tight;
The majestic empty swing is in sight. 

The empty swing, unhurried and still;
Moist with the evening shower,
Invites me to try its feel and power.
It’s tempting and I am too close
To not sit on it and pose-
legs in the air and perpendicular to the torso,
While in motion, stretching more so!

Some years back, 
I would have swung fast;
Screaming ‘I am having a blast’!
But that was a long time back;
Now life’s walking on a separate track. 
Fascinating, how no one thing feels the same,
At two different time frame.
Yesterday, I would have swung fast.

Today, the empty swing is inviting me.
And I am not too eager,
There’s no familiar old trigger;
It doesn’t make sense anymore. 

The same thing to the same person,
And there’s a curtain between meanings.

The empty swing moist with the evening shower,
Invites me to try its feel and power.
I say ‘Some other day, I will
If it makes sense then, Empty Swing’.

If you liked this poem, do read The Umpteenth Rain Poem!

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