She’s not the type that jumps off swingsBut clings to the rusty chains andDrags her feet in the wood chips to stop,Squealing when I tease her byTwisting close on my swingI watch her dismount andStep gingerly away:I pump my legs and leanBackwards way wayWay back so far my long hair sweepsThe ground and I lookBehind me and the world’s upside downDown down, or am I upside downThen swinging up-up-up again and swoopingDownwards almost crashingTo earth but I don’t, I just swing up-up-upAgain and I can see nothing butThe sky above me and the chainsGo slack and I am weightless for oneLifting second, not sitting in the swing but onSky then forwards backwardsForwards it’s all the same, justGlorious movement, twirling andTumbling around and aRound, side side over–watchThe poles!–andCircling again and again. dizzy dizzy dizzy then IRealize the only thing preventing meFrom flying is the chains so IJUMP, leaving the unimportantSwing behind in one soft blurred instant,Jumping off swing and into sky,Just sky and soaringOff into air, only airAround me, lifting me up-up-upAnd I wonder, is this flying?Nothingness becomesEverything around me air isAll I amTouchingThen ground is here, under me,And I am running, one foot thenThe next, helpless to stop, can’tStop, just running. IStagger, head still, butWorld spinning. She tells me I’mCrazy, but I know better,She is the crazy one-not jumping off swingsDenying herself that air-feelingThe instant when you lift offThe swing and just lift, rise-You haven’t fallen yet, you’reGoing up-up-up and beingDizzy doesn’t matterYou are allAirAnd sun in your eyes andLife becomes nothing butSimple happiness.