GHOST CHILDREN TRILOGY (1/3): THE EMPTY SWING

Written ~ (06/14/26) · Published ~ (Unpublished)

Uploaded ~ (10/03/26)

There by the tree, a branch hanging so low
Gently in the breeze, the swing doth go—swinging to and fro

In a moment of quiet, a sunset paints the sky a glorious red
Parents mourn their daughter’s passing and tears are still shed

Sometimes giggles are heard when the wind blows through
All the plantation workers feel uncertain—not knowing what to do

The laughter of a child, which nobody sees near
So happy, so playful—deviant even, but so queer

I see the swing on a warm, peaceful Sunday eve
Gleefully swinging on its own, a sight hard to believe

Nobody knows where the body may be
Except the giggling noises, beckoning “follow me”

Though those that tried, often never return
Prayers said for those that died, warnings so stern

Yet the swing continues, to swing and sway
Years will pass, and the swing shall stay

Hearing whispers of a child’s laugh as we watch the empty spot
The wind carries the echoes of her voice, along with the stench of rot

Here lies the swing, with unsettling movements still in view
By the tree where no one stands, the swing sways on cue—swinging fro and to

Note:
I was walking through a neighborhood one evening, and in a front lawn I saw an old, empty swing.
No one was playing in it; it was just hanging there, motionless, slowly decaying as the child or children it was made for outgrew it.
It was just hanging from a tree branch, without anyone to swing on it.  
That was the inspiration for this poem, which in turn inspired the series.