Alan C. Reese

How to Fly

Each night dream of wings
Until you feel the skin tighten
And between the scapula
Nubs begin to sprout.
When they have unfolded
Be patient,
Let them dry in the spring air,
Test their strength,
Stretch them
Before you run to an open window
Or a tall rooftop and –soar

Tarzan Swing

rope, thick as my wrist,
gripped in these boy’s hands,
I run until the earth
disappears beneath my feet,
arc to a point where I must choose—
then let go, suspended mid-air
for one brief, timeless breath
between heaven and below,
and fall earthward
like that boy with wings in greek mythology,
tumble out of the hot wind of summer
through the fear of gravity,
plunge into cool dark waters
only to surface in a world
of light and sound and I know not what
forever and ever amen
 

© Alan C. Reese