which a more poignant

memory that he threw

me or that i fell into his

arms full of glee laughing

willing to go again until his

limbs grown weary from tossing

turned rubber and the fear of

missing shown real in his eyes at

3 i could not imagine a world where

he would not catch me so i screamed out

‘again’ demanding this game

never end requiring both flight and the

assurance of his arms folding around me

holding me tight i don’t know which brought

me more joy the thrill of being airborne

2 feet above his 5’9″ frame or the faithful

landing in his arms

again