Over the park
the call of the swing
familiar old tune
ear-splitting.
Squeak!
Little legs
in ecstasy
kick and wiggle
weightlessly.
Squeak!
Those legs are new
pudgy and spry
they can’t yet walk
but they can fly.
Squeak!
Rhythm of childhood
mid-air play
song of light hearts
in meter’d day.
Squeak!