there is
a wooden swing
hanging
from the apple tree
like an
old cliché
like a
feeble imitation of a Norman Rockwell painting
as if it
was hung there as a prop
by a savvy
realtor trying to sell the property
with the
apples beginning to ripen
she
happily swings
sometimes
for hours
she is
only five
and she
doesn’t know what a cliché is
she has
never heard of Norman Rockwell
and is
not looking to buy real estate
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