Saturday, April 26, 2008
Impossible: A Saturday Poem
Impossible
If you knew this, it would be a miracle.
No.
An impossibility.
How could you remember the rusty chains
Of the swing that held you aloft when I pushed
Your entire history upward, squeaking.
Higher and higher and higher and higher until
Giggles turned to a delighted terror, and the complete
Apparatus itself threatened some sort of collapse as it
Bounced and skidded and thudded about in the sand and
You very nearly wrapped around the upper bar for a second
Revolution.
No.
Even I find it difficult to recall. But it is there.
How could I expect you to remember the time
I swung you ‘round the carousel until east was west and
North was south and my hand, catching on one of the bars
Flung me whole into the Earth?
You, your wobbly tooth wobbling.
Laughing like the end of the world, and your mother falling over,
Holding her belly and pointing?
My dirt-filled eyes checking to see you unkilled by centrifugal forces…
Finding you safe, kissing your sweet face, engulfed with one thought,
You are my daughter?
© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008
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5 comments:
I like this - very much.
(Glad to see your poetry back.)
I like a lot, too.
excuse the ignorance, but why is there a question mark after daughter?
I like it BTW
"How could you remember the rusty chains
Of the swing that held you aloft when I pushed
Your entire history upward, squeaking."
Oh, I do love that line, very, very much.
Thank you all for your lovely comments. Thank you for reading me, it is such an honor.
Anonymous, the reason that the final sentence is in question-form is because the man in the poem is simply overwhelmed with the thought that such a beautiful child could be his. To him, in that moment, it all seems to be something that is "impossible". [<-- Title of poem.]
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