Swings Soothe the Soul

When I was a little girl, we spent some of our summers

 with my Grandma  Mammy in rural Kentucky.

Every farmhouse had a front porch with a swing.

I came from the city.

Our porch was too small for a swing.

On hot summer days, my sister and I

 would swing on Mammy's front porch,

Back and forth, back and forth.

We'd listen to calls

of  summoning  Bob White,

of  plaintive  Mourning Doves,

and  to the night's cricket chorus  song.

Feel the days heat ending.

The  glittering stars holding us close.

The night settling in.

Back and forth, back and forth.

Now I too have a front porch and  swing.

I listen to the Wood Pewee's incessant calling,

the Acorn Woodpecker's grating,

 the Rufus Towhee's questioning,

the bumble bees buzzing,  

and the chimes' fine music

 sighing in the wind.

Back and forth, back and forth,

Back and forth.