I’m texting and swinging and you texted back that I shouldn’t be doing both and it made me laugh out loud right here on this green swing where the wind is blowing last year’s oak leaves off their oaks and the air is full of March and redtails and redwings and if I was fast I would text
that I took the back way roads with names like River Fork and East River Fork and Springdale and Johnson in my red flannel shirt no jacket with the window down on this Friday in the almost middle of southern Wisconsin and you would text
a smile and I bet you turned left at the sign for the old log church and I can see you there in the churchyard and
is it sacrilegious?, I text and
no you say it’s ok to be swinging in that graveyard of folks whose names you can no longer read who can’t swing anymore, stopped and swinging in the middle of your drive home there outside Daleyville at noon on the first day of spring.