Flying Five

Another short and funny poem about my childhood.

 

Flying Five

 

Encouraging false notions

Of wingless children

Soaring through the skies

            …is a poor decision on the parts of uncles everywhere.

 

At five

When rationality has no yet blossomed

Spoon-fed stories of my ability to fly

Effortlessly through the skies above

            …weren’t helpful.

 

Young mind, like a sponge

Eager to sop up any mess

Being spouted from anyone

            …wasn’t a good place to plant ideas.

 

On my day birth

In the fifth year of my life

An entire family over

Laughing, drinking, carrying brightly colored packages

Tied up with bows…

 

I climbed

--Arms outstretched

Ready to feel the breeze between my fingers

As I soared above

The heads of my party guests—

            To the top of the black plush arm

            Of the love seat

            And jumped

                        Off of the couches launch pad

And flew

            With swan-like grace

                        Into the coffee table

                                    With my head.

 

And an all expense paid vacation

To the emergency room

            Was my reward

                        For my first “Childhood flight”

And two swollen black eyes were the trophies I was

Allowed to carry with me

For the rest of the week..