Impossible

Impossible

If you knew this, it would be a miracle.
No.
An impossibility.
How could you remember the rusty chains
Of the swing that held you aloft when I pushed
Your entire history upward, squeaking.
Higher and higher and higher and higher until
Giggles turned to a delighted terror, and the complete
Apparatus itself threatened some sort of collapse as it
Bounced and skidded and thudded about in the sand and
You very nearly wrapped around the upper bar for a second
Revolution.

No.
Even I find it difficult to recall. But it is there.
How could I expect you to remember the time
I swung you ‘round the carousel until east was west and
North was south and my hand, catching on one of the bars
Flung me whole, into the Earth?
You, your wobbly tooth wobbling.
Laughing like the end of the world, and your mother falling over,
Holding her belly and pointing?
My dirt-filled eyes checking to see you unkilled by centrifugal forces…
Finding you safe, kissing your sweet face, engulfed with one thought,
You are my daughter?

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2008