Fallen 1973

Jesus - a snappy dresser
in cranberry velvet, butterfly sleeves,
Breck girl hair.
And I dress up for Him.
The navy coat with gold buttons
that waits all week,
sighing.  I’m seven
and still chew my hair.
I make the world
with each click
of my black buckle shoes.

Sunday school - my chair rears up on its
hind legs, a stallion I am
taming.  I’m good with wild things,
patient, fearless.  Repeat :

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep...
(But death is a nothing, a nonsense word;
my life a party that no one ever leaves...)

Falling is like waking up.
The strings are cut.
My teacher lifts me from the floor,
rights my chair.
I cry because
No One caught me.
Nothing held me there.