Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Janette Schafer writes

At a gymnastics exhibition

There is a quiet dark girl—
all rage and concentrated muscle—
who flings her body like

a child's ragdoll. I envy
her center of gravity, steadiness
of gaze and body. They call it

tumbling, except she always seems
so sure. I wondered how she
walks on earth after tasting sky.

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