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Hop

A surprise a twist a leap.
That’s all you have to do.
Stay with it half asleep
in the pouch of a kangaroo.

Too long the feet too large.
Jumping out of bed.
Turn your ankle on the charge
and trip over your head.

Get up and reach for the ceiling.
You’re in a nine by ten.
It could be a feeling of wheeling.
Who’s to tell where from when?

But the glory is in the hop.
Born again or not
you’ve been carried for a ride.
Once again in darkness reside.

Pray to come out with huge feet.
To leap in bounds not to retreat.
In a warm place to sniff and retire.
Shape of the body with wings of desire.

Published in Poetry