Elise Paschen
Acrobat
The night you were conceived
we balanced underneath a tent,
amazed at the air-marveler,
who, hand-over-hand, seized the stars,
then braved the line to carry home
a big-top souvenir umbrella.
Earth-bound a year, you dare
gravity, sliding from the couch
to table. Mornings, on tiptoe,
stretching fingers, you grab
Saturn, Venus and the moons
raining down from the sky of ceiling.
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