When Gravity Held No Meaning.
Updated on January 12, 2010
When Gravity Held Little Meaning.
I remember
crossing the sky
in sneaker-ed feet,
toes pointed upward,
against the
cobalt blue,
swinging skyward,
when I
was bored
between chains,
and then
letting go,
arms and
legs akimbo,
as I
sailed heavenward,
laughing uproariously,
and the
making a
polished two
point landing
in the
soft grass below,
I was
an astronaut
on a
space walk,
a pilot
bailing out
of his bomber,
a bird
on a
twenty story ledge,
leaping out
on a wing
and a prayer.
I was a kid
jumping across
the borders
of imagination,
and landing
many years later
as a poet
who misses
the rush
of his youth.
©-MFB III