Jolly Jumper
i.m. Harry (2009-17)
Hey, jolly jumper,
I say to young Will, six months
into this jolly jumping
world, strapped
into his blue harness
like a paratrooper, dangled
from a coiled spring
at the threshold between living
& dining rooms. He shuffles
his chubby, muscle-boy
legs, the old soft shoe, flexes
tiny feet, lifts like Baryshnikov
on point, twinkle-toed, floaty
as a moonwalker, up
& down he goes. Happy-boy
noises burble from him
like spring water, like May flowers
unfurl from my daughter’s window
boxes: pansies, begonia, lobelia,
petunia. Words, blossoms, gurgles
of joy. My bubbly buddy. Oh
boy, here comes tasty facetime
with brown Labradorian
Harry, eager, four-legged
amble across the room, red tongue
in fleshy full bloom. To lick
is to like & Harry laps like a wild
beast God who lives on baby
drool. My Will, cherub of pure
happiness, receives this animal
love that has come into the world
& laughs & laughs.
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