Hour 7: “Winged Seats of the Past”
Where sunflower children encircle a swingset,
tippy toes point towards the deepest of blue skies.
And laughter falls through the air like frolicking leopards,
all spotted and sporadic, full of stomach and throat.
In this field at the edge of the rolling woods,
where sunflower children encircle a swingset,
dreams drop their leaves with each soaring defiance of gravity
to sequester in the old soil of earthworm labyrinths.
I am the watching wind, passing gently through,
Indifferent to the woes and the wishes that sway back and forth
Where sunflower children encircle a swingset,
And all the leaves rustle, like hot whispers of breaking glass.
In the tall fields of late August, the dry wood splits,
a trembling pendulum creaks the sad song of life,
The wind lifts footprints from the settling dust,
where sunflower children encircle a swingset.
