The great pendulum, rewinded

"All the leaves are brown..."  


Ramshackles chained beneath the sky
Freeing us from the currents of life
To return to the blissful moments of childhood,
Where rollercoasters of memories are rife. 
The motions thrust the obsidian-colored seat Up high then down to the grass, where the blades sweep Gently under the shoes, like the tales from the past Comforting us during the times we weep. Rock to the rhythm of your time Like the pendulum, swinging in perptuality. As long as the crisp fresh air, the dancing dandelions Are under your feet, you are free.

Thumbnail photo: I couldn't find a picture of the swings in the nearby elementary school in springtime so here's a photo of what they'll look like in a few months. Ah, just imagining how fresh the air will be does cool me down a bit as I'm typing these words during a humid night in Saigon...

Anyway, this is a poem I wrote in grade 12 AP English class that I waited three years to post because why not. There was, in fact, a time when I came up with rhymes faster than ChatGPT, and now I need to search up "enjambment techniques" 😔

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