I glanced out the kitchen window and the light caught my eye, warm and rosy on my neighbor's wall. Sunset. The sun's rays were shining through the barren winter trees, projecting a silhouette of our old swing set, still and frozen on the side yard.
My sons take their seats, the motor kicks on and the swings start turning to the right in a soft, careful circle. It is their spotlight. It is as wide as a slow dance and twice as wild. Their hearts beat accordingly. They pass me by again and again. The only thing that changes is the calendar.