Poetry Friday - Tire Swing

I have always been a lover of swings and the act of flying through the air without a care in the world. As a child I had a swing set my father assembled from industrial pipes. It had two swings the afforded all kinds of pleasure, whether swinging in a traditional fashion, winding up and twisting and untwisting, or serving as a launching pad for dreams of the perfect aerial dismount. I also spent time on the knotted rope swing that hung in a tree over an obliging corn field.

I still swing today, and am grateful that I no longer need to push my son but rather can challenge him to see who the high flyer in the family really is!

Today I'm sharing a poem I found while preparing my Poetry Makers interview with Gene Fehler. He's the author of a teacher's guide entitled Let the Poems Begin!: A Poet's Guide to Writing Poetry. It is filled with practical teaching tips and suggestions for writing poetry and contains more than 100 original poems. Here's one of my favorites.

Tire Swing
by Gene Fehler

My brother Aaron swung me high and hard
Toward tops of trees, until I almost flew
Into the blue of sky above our yard.
I peaked, then roller-coasted down and through
My squeals that sprinkled on the distant ground.
I tilted, lurched, then fought to grab the rope
And stop my fall. The tire spun around
With wild abandon. I could only hope
That God or Aaron (either one would do)
Could soften up the oak tree's matchbox bark
Which planned a terrifying rendezvous
Somewhere within the tire's final arc.
I closed my eyes and never found out why
The oak tree stepped aside to let me by.

Poem ©Gene Fehler. All rights reserved.

The round up is being hosted by Anastasia Suen at Picture Book of the Day. Do stop by and take in all the terrific poetry being shared. Before you go, be sure to check out this week's poetry stretch results. Happy poetry Friday all!