Übergangszeit

When i can´t fall asleep

I sneak out to the yard

and climb onto the swing

that´s attached to a branch

of sweet scented pine.

As i glide through the night

and i hang back my head

I see stars and a moon

that´s following me

through the evergreen trees.

And I fly on my swing

through the midnight ice cold

as the swirling white clouds

of my own frozen breath

brush my tingling cheeks.

And my nightgown wafts up

and my hair billows out

as I float through the air

and there´s only the sound

of the dark whooshing past.

And my thought drift to you

on a day long ago

when my legs were too short

so you helped me climb up

and you taught me to pump.

Sonya Sones