“Wait Here”

Elena Hymes

“The Swing”

Grace Betzwieser

She sits on the icy swing

The air damp

Like her clothes

She listens

To the sound of the rain

Hitting the ground

As the wind softly blows against her face

Back and forth

She swings

Flying freely through the air

And the pouring rain    

A thick breeze blows back

Her wet and tangled hair

So lost in thought

She almost doesn’t notice

A slight squeaking

Just off to the left

She sits frozen

The lonely night slowly fills

As she turns her head

Inch by inch

Ignoring her instincts

And her shaky hands

But once she looks

All that’s left is the swing

Rocking back and forth

And the reminiscence 

Of what was once there.

• Category: Photography, Poetry