On a Toddler's Two-Story Fall

Excerpt

The long nerves sweetly braided down the spine

are tightly woven: landing on your head,

you did not break, but bounced. Just one of nine,

this life has spurned the earth; you tread

the air as angels do, both bird and man combined.

An acrobat, you have no use for sage

advice. My bag is bare; resilient bone

is best. Whose hand has tried to test your age

and write this tale of brilliance thrown

mid-air, then blot the freshly written page?

O champion of human flight, you would

outlast experiments in gravity.

Who needs diplomas, pointless accolade?

Your body