On Simple Wooden Swings
Side by side in evening dark,
on simple wooden swings.
Without a goal or destination,
my grown son and I, companions.
The garden becomes a Narnia
where the lamposts,
glowing golden-yellow,
soften our voices.
We put our minds away
and trust the knowing of our hearts.
Slowly we swing, back and forth.
Words taper, fade.
The rest of the world is away.
Our separate lives
subside into quiet
contentment
©Susa Silvermarie 2026
You raised an amazing son:)
Beautiful, as usual!