I Save Us Both on Peter Pans Flight
I borrow my daughter and hop in line,
croon and lick, adjust her braids
till we look like kissing cousins.
But when our ship comes in
I almost forget she’s with me.
I sigh and lift, her weight a debt
that never stops growing. One leap
and we’re through the window,
pixie dust pulling us.
We stretch toward the second star, leave
Nana barking small and far. My girl strains
her seatbelt, reaches for London Bridge,
tries to fly, so I play the dutiful mother,
snatch her back, distract: fairies! mermaids!
pirates! and remind her we’re only guests here.
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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 54 | Fall/Winter 2019