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May 2013
on a city swing set
a boy flies
perched for a brief second
on a sunbeam
before gravity rips him
back down from the clouds
and away from the
green chain link fence he faces.

as i drove by,
i wondered
if the thought had
crossed his mind
that a few inches from today
he would be
too tall to ride
the already aged sunbeams;

too tall to ride
one final time
knees scraping the
pockmarked metal and
he, i imagine, will
sigh quietly,
exhaling a body temperature breath
that will dissipate
before it has
the chance to cool.

already past, i
will be even farther gone
before the air
absorbs a piece of him,
memories of a green chain link fence
facing a rusting swing set.
j f
Written by
j f
962
   Ian Cairns
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