Better to have a friend holding the rope at either end, and chanting:
"Cinderella dressed in yellow, went to town to meet a fellow ..."
"My mother and your mother were out washing clothes ... "
On Valentine's Day, we took our ball gloves out on the beach and played catch. Years since I'd done that. Still love the smack of it. The jumping and stretching and chasing after.
I've noticed in my work, too, I'm frequently inserting references to childhood.
From Wretched Beast, and the poem "Where He Takes Me":
"I am so simple. This is a tale of gusts
and sun, and I say: Close your eyes,
count to one hundred
in the the tall grass and find me, find me.
I am shadow leaping tree to tree, further, not far
from badger holes, deer dung, and fox."
An excerpt from "For You"
"and in this mew of light
I am a stone freed from a child's fingers
above a ravine, a trick
in measured-motion,. I wish you
had known the girl I abandoned in cattails
beside the forzen slough. Forever
in a suede jacket with fringes, wet mittens
caricaturing my hands. Shivering. Then, as now, sky
closing in, the cap of a blue-grey mushroom.
tidal. Winter winthin its waves."