Tall

“Your house is kind of small.”

They said as we reached the top of the stairs,

And I roll my eyes because they can’t see her crouching.

They’ve never seen her in the spring,

When she grows so tall

That she can pluck the sun right out of the sky,

And hang it from a tree in the backyard.

Or in the summer,

When she stands on her tip toes

Just to catch the faintest whiff

Of a sea breeze from off the coast.

They’ve never seen her shoulder aside

A jungle canopy in the autumn

Or pull back the frozen curtains

That winter drapes above our heads

To shade us from the angels’ divine light.

I guess it’s hard to see heaven

From atop a dusty stairwell

Especially when she’s crouching,

But I’ve been on her shoulders

And its beautiful up there.