Swing

Pacing the room
I notice a circle
born in a pattern on the rug

I step into its center
and wish
for passage
back
to the beginning -

we pumped our legs
underneath
to get started

we pointed our heels at the clouds
in the harmony we made between ground and sky
we took our chances
on flying

the seats bounced with emptiness behinds us -

tonight
I stand
with this suspense of time
and dare it all
to happen again.