THE THRILL

(For Raul Joshua)


I toss you into the air. And,
for a second, you dwell at the
highest level of my throwing.

The air though
mild as Standard’s No. 1
is strong enough for you.

It lifts up the edge of your
white Hanes T-shirt given by
Ninong Noli on your birthday.

The entire family
sees your protruding navel,
hears the swell of your giggle.

On your way down
into my arms,
your Mama photographs us.

The photo captures all
the elements of thrill—
your chuckle bares a tooth.

Your breath moves the air.
And I remember Papa.
He once told me

I was a hyper-active child, always
seeking to be up in the air.
Now, I realize this:

The thrill is not in the air.
It’s in the arms down below
functioning like safety nets.

(Published in Ani 31 Literary Journal)