Wednesday, July 27, 2011

flying with jack

"HEY! how did you get here?"

my son asked, when
he noticed me behind him.

"i flew"

i replied.

his five year old
not-quite guile-less eyes

"can you really fly, dad?"

(me, airily)  "oh yes.  but i only do it
when no one is looking.

people often get upset
when they realise you can fly."

"can I fly too, dad?"

"of course.  it's easy
when you know the trick.

but don't let on.
might not understand."

a dawning in those
deep brown eyes
the colour of
good strong coffee
in a glass
held to the light

he ran off
to tell his sisters

"i flew"

the combined weight of their
separate scorn
was not enough to

drag him

back to earth



  1. Bravo.
    I absolutely love it.

    and the good strong coffee eyes..

  2. wow. I love this. i'm familiar with these creatures 'his five year old
    not-quite guile-less eyes
    widened.' :)

  3. Fantastic Bruce, I love the innocence of children. I remember once, my daughter, seeing a commercial on television with a CGI tiger, asked me with wide eyes, "do tigers talk?" I didn't know what to answer, caught between wanting to teach and wanting to protect her innocence / imagination.

  4. Bruce,

    Lovely. I smiled all the way through the poem. I can't remember the last time a poem made me smile.