Girls Jumping on Trampolines

They flicker in and out

of focus — summer caught

between them as their hair

flames out across blue.

The day’s been drawn out

to a single long syllable

but of course one jumps higher,

burns recklessly brighter

as she floats in expectation.

And I can’t help wondering

which of the two will master

our ordinary hells —

the wise-eyed sister

who stitches caution

onto regulation socks

or the one with feathers

tucked between thin shoulders —

everything she thought

she knew dissolving

as she rises

into sky’s unanswered

question.

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