Learning to Stand
On the earth a stretched second
you stood, balanced. Gravity
glued dolly shoes. You wore
the sky on your head, jauntily,
light blue paper hat plumed
with feather clouds, as air’s
transparent gloves cuddled
you upright. Padding paws
forgot themselves in hands.
You learn the trick of standing
as the world spins, hurtles,
turns you upside down
in darkness. Already
you’ll lean less on me.
