He hiccups a laugh like
a schoolchild on the monkey bars
when his eyes find a wingspan
as far-reaching as his smile.
He can’t help but marvel,
this boy, who catches my gaze before it returns
to a more dangerous playground–my mind,
where worries climb and what ifs clutch the chains,
swinging erratic and wild.
But he points at the slender beak of a hawk flying low,
and my wrinkled brow smooths over.
His wonder salves every burn, and calms the beating in my temples.
With him I dangle free, legs kicking towards the otherside
and my insides tickle with a different kind of spasm–joy.
