I Hope You Learned to Dance First

i don't know how to write about you
you tiny ones that slip my hands and spin away

you are runners, i wager
foot to dirt on those high paths you 
lean into the dark hill trails and you're pulled away
before the light can get you to us

your mother whispered things to you, you know
crazy beautiful things
in the human fashion.
i found her looking at a closed door you had just walked through,
she looked at it and spoke for awhile, more testimony than murmur
on the chance you were still there, paused on the other side
"every minute, you were loved"
"every minute, you were loved"

you left a trail of yourself in her, and
she wants to be sure, in a way she can't be, that
those bits know they're loved

her body will remind her now for some time
of your heavy tenure,
the way you bent us

you and the one who came before you,
i hope you learned to dance first.

that tiny electrical existence
a lightning storm of legless boogie fury
i hope that was you. 

your uncle says
when he stops moving, he'll look for you in our family space.
go there