The Lonely Swing

On a walk that had no destination, the clouds hung low and grayed out the sky. Turn after turn, trail after sidewalk, I came across a tree. It caught my eye because of how big it was. Even from afar, I understood its size. Scanning the tree, I noticed the tire swing hanging from a strong branch. All that would use it are away. The crooked dock, nose pointed at the sky. Perhaps a young girl fished off it once, but now it looks abandoned and neglected. The wind gave the tire enough energy to sway just lightly, as if they were swept up from right there. Leaving the swing, and the tree, and the dock, alone. And stuck in a moment of understandable loneliness.