You'd forgotten how good this
Trampoline felt when
Your feet slide and
Toenails scratch on
The hot black stuff and
Your weight forgets itself as
Your body bounces, small
Little bounces -
Hiccups that you didn't even
Mean to make.
Concave hot black stuff
Contracts then
Concave again then
Contracts then -
As feet make
Little bounces
Little hiccups, and
Bigger bounces
Bigger hiccups until
-Feet suspended halfway
Between blue and green,
Tiny gasps of
Delight and of
Mourning escape and-
You don't even
Notice the
Hot black stuff and
On it the
White freckles the
Birds left behind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem