This piece of art is called "Lily's Past."
On a hill at the edge of a tiny forest, two rope swings sway gentle in the crisp autumn air. Abandoned for years, tattered and frayed, no one even notices they hang there, until one young adult emerges from the the branches. Her face reflect the nostalgia her mind has been ruminating in, and her eyes are red. She stops short when she sees the tree. It's magnificent splendor as it stands tall and proud startles her. The beauty of the red leaves softens her face, and she walks towards it like an old familiar friend. Lily's hand gently touches the rough bark. She stares up through the branches. No, no robins can be seen making a home. Perhaps they'd already flown south for the winter.
After circling the tree and making sure it looks the same, Lily stares at the lonely swings, afraid to touch them. Her father had looked so strong when he had hammered the spike into the branch. The laughter from her sister as she pumped higher on the swing rung in Lily's ears. She could still feel the weight of her against herself as Lily pushed her. She touches the rope swing and the pain shoots into her heart. She'd never forget the panic she felt as she watched her friend Ben tumble down from the swing. She never should have dared him. To this day she hasn't stood on a swing, and Ben still walks with a limp. Lily remembers how she pumped for two hours as the tears streamed down her face after her best friend moved away and again when her grandfather died. How could such sadness be associated with such beauty? Lily brushed away a tear, one of bittersweet peace. It was good to visit again, for one last time, before she moved away.
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