Elise Paschen

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.
Copyright 2010 by Elise Paschen. Used with permission of the author.

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