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Phantom Swingset

I’m sharing one of my newer poems today. I hope it inspires you to get out there and share your creative work, too.

Phantom Swingset

Spots of memory
and big darkness.
Loving things
and feeling ashamed.

Language. Lilt.

We pretended to be
figure skaters.

Why did I throw away
so many books?

I learned to stifle
a dancing interior
voice, the sparkle
of interior life.

In an ancient dream,
I visit a playground
on a steep hill.

Now, I flinch.
Now, I cross out
my own words.

I pretended to be
the priest. I asked
to be the nun.

I wanted to be the best good girl.

I built poems and stories,
beautiful little gifts–
tiny storms,
wild horses
galloping across
the pages,
miniature lightning.

I pushed the baby
carriage up the hill,
but it tipped over.

Open the book again.

Wrap yourself in lightness.


Email me at barbaravaranka@gmail.com

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