Martial Artist:
I inherited a knack for catching falling things:
a light bulb my friend dropped from her ceiling,
someone's scarf in windy weather…
It's a martial art of courtesy, and I'm its martyr.
Why did my ancestors bring this skill into the world?
Which of them had to save their plunging child?
Thom Schramm.
From a new collection of poetry, Thorn House, written by the partner of a friend of mine.
This one particularly spoke to me because one time at the Oregon Zoo, a 3yo sneaky Sadie did her darndest to climb over the railing of a pedestrian bridge, and didn't fall to her doom thanks to vigilant Aunt J, whom we were visiting this past week.
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