Everybody Hides a Super Power by Ron Houchin

Jumping the clothesline of my sister’s
flapping diapers, no one around, I keep
on swimming. Dreamy how air turns

to liquid when I’m alone, spread my arms
as if to hug the horizon then leap forward.
On the roof, I hide behind the chimney,

watching Grandma take down clean-smelling
clothes, Mr. Belcher mow his hay, crows
lifting from the field ahead of his tractor,

and I wonder, do birds of all feather dream
of standing on solid ground, never having to fly
away from tractors, cars, cats? I woke tonight,

believing everybody hides the same secret
in sleep. I’d dreamt of not flying, better
than anything, just walking night air.

From: https://thegalwayreview.com/2016/08/13/ron-houchin-four-poems/

Date: 2016

By: Ron Houchin (19??- )

Tags: 2016, everybody hides a super power, jumping the clothesline of my sister’s, poetry, ron houchin