Bright sunlight glints off golden curls as little legs swing back and forth, pumping the swing higher and higher. I gaze through the window as she leans back, face kissing the sun while she glides forward, backward, and forward again.
Stepping through the door, bare feet sinking into cool, green grass, I hear her sing, “When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall….” before flinging herself out of the swing and into midair.
I hold my breath, watching her sail like a feather through the air until she lands feet first, crowing, “…and down will come baby, cradle and all!”
This was prompted by Velvet Verbosity’s weekly challenge word…BOUGH.