Thirty-three Inches Falling

Jelly stained face and bare
Except he doesn't care
For anything but pulling inner strings to hold
An awkward posture
Spontaneous recital in comic still motion
Only knowing well enough
To jostle around his
Spinning winter room universe
Simple elements and
Thirty-three inches falling
To soft ground,
Knee cries,
And morning pain
Melts
to
Charming mystery
Outside his corner eye window
Still white thought
Holding a wonder moment
Even though
The snows fell yesterday
Knee deep from their mother
Letting go her
Every glass tear
Held together just long enough
To reach him
Blanket skies and calling him
To stick out his tongue
Pressed to pane
And taste day
Like he's never lived before.