she
would not fall
she would not fall
jump off the edge
she would not dive
or learn to
toes tucked over
thumbs married
a prayerful stone
bowed on the brink
father coaxing girl
his morning waning
in this dilemma
a silent absent child
afraid of this world
to dive in, to speak
submerged in tasks
his dreams, she not
even there, little
hidden tiny worlds
inside places opening,
he horn-rimmed, full
bellied corduroyed
mid last century big
planting orchids
laying cement paths
rolling his own
she disappointing
ancestral histories he
coaching her fall to
have this over, done,
break the moment
the sea tide morning
a statue should leap
crash through
he pushed, she fell,
feels his impatience
his hands still, breaking
trust, standing
on an edge
on an edge
parents of that generation really knew how to teach!
ReplyDeleteGot it, Anna! All that is needed is encouragement!
ReplyDeleteoh, and what a heartbreaking first stanza.Great.
ReplyDelete