04-10-2015, 03:44 PM
One giant stride
One day
when I came home from school
a pole stood upright in our back yard
taller than anything around,
taller than any new trees.
Four ropes hung from the top;
it was anchored deep in the ground
with railway line and sleepers.
Neighbours shook their heads.
Some called it a May Pole.
Slamming sideways
into the steel, or
banging heads with others
who should have let go
but didn’t; this is how
I learned to fly.
I also learned the
random brutality of pain,
the importance of letting go,
timing; how convenient
unconsciousness can be
and eventually physical
coordination, strength
and stoicism
and to be suspicious
of gifts from my father.
One day
when I came home from school
a pole stood upright in our back yard
taller than anything around,
taller than any new trees.
Four ropes hung from the top;
it was anchored deep in the ground
with railway line and sleepers.
Neighbours shook their heads.
Some called it a May Pole.
Slamming sideways
into the steel, or
banging heads with others
who should have let go
but didn’t; this is how
I learned to fly.
I also learned the
random brutality of pain,
the importance of letting go,
timing; how convenient
unconsciousness can be
and eventually physical
coordination, strength
and stoicism
and to be suspicious
of gifts from my father.