The Swing Poem by Anna Banasiak
The Swing
Fallen leaves.
Withered tree.
Time stood still.
I will come to the garden
caress dreams
of children and our home.
I left love
calming for me the whole world.
I was looking for her all my life.
Now it's too late.
Miles Davies cuddles loneliness.
I'm a girl swinging in the past.
Thursday, February 15, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: love and dreams
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5/18/2024 4:40:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
