seethingblue's Diaryland Diary

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poem 204

there.

trampoline songs: my hair flying up to theceiling. . .and i crash down on the surface that moves and expands, adjusting to my weight. . .letting me in all the way and down down down, my feet almost touching the grass below

but i'm up again. i'm gone.

jumping over the houses below- they are the reds of bricks and the orange of leaves left over from autumn, crackling like a fire but from the wind, blown across pavements and driveways and the girls next door with their duck, duck, goose circles. . .shoeless. so barefoot. and above i go. maybe i'll get my collar caught on a star, loose like front teeth,. . .wiggle wiggle.

wiggle enough and it pops out.

i'll be caught, dirty knees swinging at the world below.

different flavored frozen ice sucked out of the plastic and the blue mouth kisses, smurf tongues.

i sink a little in my shoes down below, on earth. I sink a little. . .I

because I am too old for games.

I can't leave the ground. like before,

from my own story

i'm stuck to the ground and you smile past me.

there's no way i can make it over her head this time.

her shiny hair.

long.

the kind that just stays there.

5:03 p.m. - 2002-02-17

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