a half-empty swing faces west in a golden air only the sun could gift
her heat settles as she does
off to hide her  light from a half grateful for her rays
on to burn magnificent for the other

a half-full swing faces west in a blue twilight only the moon could accent
his glow reflecting a familiar shine
here to hold the light for a half longing for more
a beacon of hope through the dark

a half-used swing watches helplessly as the moon gives chase
come back, sun
return and rise and burn and fall again
give to your moon for one more evening