Jessic Fonseca-Moreira

The Swing Out Back


Rotting wood,
weathered from rain and snow.
Creaking metal,
rusted from use.
Wind rushes past my face.
I can fly over tree branches,
clouds touch my feet.
A loud silence
fills the air around me.

Sweet memories of a
simple childhood.




[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2010 EDITION]


Copyright 2002-2008 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2008 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.