Swinging

Head heavy with study
And full of summer heat
I watch you now, shedding weariness like skin,
eager slender sandalled feet
kick, and you swing,
with momentum gaining aching joy
in that space somewhere between ground and sky,
where nothing is asked of you.

Head tilted back, eyes closed
dutifully, good child
waiting for dreams of clouds to come to you
like they did when you were small, and your tiny starfish hands
clasped the chains tighter, and you really thought you flew.

Graceful swooping angel arc,
mark time with a tap, toes in woodchips,
Abbey bell chimes like a dream
an echo of shimmering joy, fantasy.
Hair dark streams, gust as you rise,
rust-honey light in the trees.

In all my shifting tender agonies
of lust, of love, of silent moments,
a world in each other's eyes,
I can never give you such innocent pleasure
kiss your rosy face, dirty knees.

I hate it when you cry, and say
you feel you're a burden
you feel like you're dead
you feel you've done nothing of worth.

Just look at your folks, see how they swell with pride
just talking about you to friends
already gone further than they ever went

They won't mind if you don't get titles
and letters after your name.
My girl, my girl, you have learned to learn,
And now you must learn to play.