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.