Swing high

 Swing High

by Johnclarestokes 

To the skies above with the

hawks I swing

Below my bare feet brush the

sand and stings.

Pumping hard to reach above the

dogwood blooms

Each passing arc nearer and

nearer to blue I zoom.

And as the butterfly fusses

and flits

The locust looks and his

tobacco spits

Bees buzz and struggle under

their pollen load

Dragonflies swoop and taunt

the patient toad.

I swing in ever widening circles

The blues, the golds, the browns

all one swirl

and I leap

and I am but a speck

way above the cloudy world.

I am a hawk.