Fists holding surely
That metal chain;
The smell of life
Emanating from within.
Feet firmly anchored
In the sand by the balls.
Knees buckled;
On the edge of your seat.
Ready for take-off!
Fall slightly backward
As your toes look skyward,
Aiming higher than you dare.
Catch a flash of sun
Like a glint of magic,
Before you fall back down
For an anxious second.
Proactive feet
Propel you again.
Dreamward. Forward.
Skyward once more.
The high is addictive.
The rest of your body
Now join forces
To attain by all means
Its communal goal.
“Aim for the sky
and land on the roof”.
Higher and higher,
Dodging the rooftops.
Higher and higher,
Till there’s nothing but white.
A blinding and piercing
Yet calming bright light.
The higher you fly
The greedier you get,
And as we all know,
The harder you’ll fall.
Still you push harder,
Having now tasted freedom.
Your needs and wants
Now completely indistinguishable.
Chasing a high
That’s chased by a low
Lower than any
You’ve ever known.
Up then down.
Inhale. Exhale.
Your chest full and then emptied
Of life and hope.
The sun has set.
Your spirit is weary.
You slowly touch down
In the sand where you started.
On the ground where you belong.
Aim for nothing
And stay where you are.
Your soul bereft
Of a will to live.
Fists fall slack
Off that metal chain;
The smell of death
Emanating from within.
The Colour Dead 
There’s some wonderful imagery here. “Catch a flash of sun Like a glint of magic” and “Higher and higher, Dodging the rooftops” particularly resonate with my own experience of being on a swing. The shift of tone from “On the ground where you belong” caught me by surprise and works well.
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thank you so much 🙂
your updates are one of the few that i really really look forward to. i absolutely love your writing – your style and your subjects. so this comment, dear monkey, has made my day!
thanks again 🙂
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