Friday, April 17, 2015

2015 Poem A Day, Day Seventeen

For today’s prompt, write a swing poem. Sure, there are park swings and mood swings; there’s swing music and swing dancing; and there are swingers. Some people swing one way; others swing another. In politics, there are swing votes and swing states. And many people have swung a bat, an ax, and/or a hammer in their lifetimes.

I really have no idea where this came from. I dedicate this to Patty Griffin, who inspires me every day. This is more a bluegrass song than it is a poem, which I suppose is okay. Our family has deep bluegrass roots.


Not a fighter, but I'll fight
Not a singer, yet I sing
If you back me in a corner
Watch me swing
Watch me swing

Not a poet, but I get down
Not an artist, but I dream
If I find a rope on a riverbank
Watch me swing
Watch me swing

In this life, we've got our bridges
Those are the easy paths to take.
We've got our blue skies
filled up with clouds.
We've got our whole lives
at stake

So if you climb up the mountain
then you might as well scream:

“I am here, and I'm alive
Watch me swing

Watch me swing.”

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