my girl will learn the weight of balance,
that there is tension in springs
as we push in all we’ve enjoyed,
inhale deep the alpaca wool,
shove in with bubble-wrap
the delicate butterfly you painted
This is what it is like to leave
aunts, uncles, crying grandmas
at the shore.
Rowing Great Grandpas
it hurts a little more
can be on two sides of one earth
favorite sparkly shoes worn down
to the bone.
We set sail in the morn.
In two days, or 18 hours of flight,
plus some lines of delay,
she will rush into the hug of her adoring
and all will be smoothed.
All will be right
for that little tug,
the breath of ladybugs and stirring of grasshoppers
tuning their legs.
The missing of all we tried to keep in the bottle.
Tomorrow we will relearn your smell,
will take you in
will let you pick us up
nuzzle in our ear
walk through a porthole
called our other home,
our real bed
our actual table
the way we keep our cereal
and makeup and sock drawer and everyday hugs
and plums and leafy lettuce tight tight leaves touching leaves
all of us together, fitting ;
and we will say, “how lucky we are
to have wings.”
You get what I’m saying??
As an aside, I just can’t get enough of Ordinary Love. Oh, you wonderful wonderful U2, you.
& do they ever age?