where memories linger

where memories linger

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.

~Gene Fehler

11 Comments on “where memories linger

  1. I have never tried a tire swing and now I wish I had…I do not remember seeing them in France, where I grew up, but maybe I was not paying attention. Beautiful composition and perfect pairing with the poem πŸ™‚

  2. We had a tire swing in our back yard. I don’t know how I stood being swung around in circles back then—just the thought of getting dizzy makes me car sick now! Beautiful photo!

    • Yes, same here Kate! Now I have a hard time just watching kids spin around in these swings without getting nauseous!

  3. Love this!! There’s something about a simple tire swing that brings back so many childhood memories.

    • Thanks Marci, I agree, as kids, my brother and I had some fun times on our tire swing…life was so much simpler then!

    • Yes, I love that poem too. We had a tire swing in our yard while growing up. I remember spinning in that thing until I was just so nauseous! Fun times (;

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