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Tire Swing



Yes, I had a tire swing.
On a big old oak.
The house was small (but sufficient)
on three-quarters of an acre.
When we moved,
the people that bought the house
cut down the tall pines that lined the driveway,
the giant azaleas that separated
the road from the yard.
They left the oak,
but I have no idea
about the tire swing.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.