2015 Poem A Day, Day Seventeen

Prompt for 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.

Swing

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.”