She swung
on the rusty
backyard
swing set
pointing her feet
toward the sun
swinging closer
and closer
And then
the chains melted
and the child
fell to the ground
Her tears turned
to steam
halfway
down
her cheeks
A pang of guilt
as her father
watched
from the air-conditioned
comfort of inside
He waved
when she looked
to see if he saw
Jason Fisk lives and writes in the suburbs of Chicago. He has worked in a psychiatric unit, labored in a cabinet factory, and mixed cement for a bricklayer. He was born in Ohio, raised in Minnesota, and has spent the last 25 years in the Chicago area. www.jasonfisk.com
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