The Tire Swing Poem by Juan Olivarez

An old tire hanging,
From the big ash tree,
Was always swinging,
With my friends and me.

With an old piece of rope,
We hung it high,
All in the hope,
We could touch the sky.

We swung on that swing,
From dawn to dusk,
To that tire we would cling,
With all our trust.

Swinging up high,
Into the air,
Straight up our feet woud go,
Without a care.

The days we spent,
In the shade of that tree,
Swinging for the sky,
So happily.

6/27/10 Alton Texas