Sat in the veranda, that old rusty swing.
Which had seen much better days.
Sunny sunday mornings, lazy Friday nights.
Kids looked at it with a lusty gaze.
Way back in ’89 it was bought,
Everyone was so excited.
Now it sits in veranda, leaning,
With one of the legs disjointed.
Grampa waited for every morning,
Drinking coffee on it was his daily thing.
Now that gramps is gone,
So are the coffee stains on that swing.
Mom and dad used to sit there in nights,
Talking, looking each other in the eyes.
Sometimes they still do, not very often,
Holding hands under twinkling skies.
We 3 kids always sat together,
Eating chips, juice, nuts and much more.
The sight makes me feel older, reminding,
Childhood is gone, we are not kids anymore.
Time flies by fast, all of this is past in a blink.
Most of material things are temporary, for the time being.
They are owned, used, thrown, forgotten.
But, Some are meant to be there forever, like that old rusty swing.