Gentle Pendulum

An empty swing hung motionless over cedar woodchips. Quiet park. Perimeter clear. I approached in deliberate strides across the gravel. The rubber seat rested barely twelve inches above the ground... curved, suspended, awaiting mass. I evaluated the twin galvanized chains in complete stillness before lowering my frame. Folding my elongated limbs, I settled onto the flexible slab. The links pulled taut with a dull creak, then held stable. With a single, measured nudge of my toes against the mulch, motion engaged. Forward. A brief pause at the apex. Backward. A slow glide through the quiet air, tracing an unbroken arc beneath the branches.