Lost Bounce
Inspired by a prompt from Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s Loving the Self: A Poetry Playshop.
the sight of all the burned-out trampolines
flipped over, blown far from their families
silver u’s sticking into the air
like uncomfortable metal bridgework
puts a little hollowness in me these days –
you know there are not-laughing children
to go with each one
trampoline, you raise us up and encircle us
make a safe-ish place to be wild
test limits and bump up against our edges
you launch us into that part of childhood
that’s more about risk than safety
and make a quiet screened place
to whisper with friends
black and blue and endlessly round
you teach us how to lighten up
and we feel the pleasure of becoming buoyant
internalize that we are capable
of reaching much greater heights
than we ever thought
we love you for your whiff of danger
the broken clips and snagged nets
blue borders always shredding away to nothingness
your tenuous connection to earth
and warm embrace of sky
our muscles absorb how to bounce back
we integrate the feel of resilience
how to float and sink and go
with what the moment demands
rather than stiffly thudding through each jolt and jar
so each abandoned naked metal circle
makes my mouth go sour
makes my heart sink a touch lower
