Vigour kin

An unfamiliar, sense, anyway- an
  impulse
   within her
    makes her drop

Her child in-and-out of reversed
iambic
pattern

As if she might drop
the girl
every-now
and then, her arms burst

Out to her sides
in reflex to the sudden
dropping
sensations from

Her mother’s height in giggles – she raises the child
before her

At one point
and frowns
at her, making the high hissing sound
   of the familiar chime
   in the upper-most atmosphere
ducts
in her belly, making her scream
with joy

Before throwing her forward
   with faster stride
   as she walks along
   taking her too,

Quietly she hums the poem

Her mother
   strides

As they

Continue

To move

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