Jefferson Carter


Johnny-Jump-Up


JOHNNY-JUMP-UP



Leaping inside the Johnny-Jump-Up,
a twisting bag of houndstooth check
like the pants of a winter visitor,
my son giggles as I bend my body
into position three of Soorya
Namaskaram, the salutation
to the sun. I breathe as if I believe
yoga will make me young, a faith like
letters to the editor or small checks
mailed to an honest politician. Too
skeptical to chant Om shanti shanti,
I stop & kiss my laughing son, breathing
his odor, a sweetness the world once had.

Submitted: Saturday, April 19, 2014

Topic of this poem: parenthood


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