I loved to hear him gasp with scared delight <br />Safe in my grasp, as we slid down the peat <br />Between the fir tree branches, low with cones <br />Close to the thundering Falls on angled feet <br /> <br />His tumbled toddler knees were brown with bark <br />Behind my skirts, he’d bounce and wave for fun <br />A wingless fledgling, golden in the light <br />Greeting the waters haloed by the sun <br /> <br />Now he’s the human crutch I lean against <br />As, roles reversed, we slide towards the Falls <br />Watching them plunge into their own demise <br />Far and away, a wheeling buzzard calls.<br /><br />sheena blackhall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/growing-down-2/
