A Creator Variation: 1, Part 1

A Creator Variation (1) Part I: When I was four and You, precognizant either of our DNA or An epidemic rippling through the stomach fat of the nation, Enrolled me in gymnastics, I was Not so young that I didn't know My preferences. More specifically, I knew that Bounding the trampolined length of the room was fun and So were skin-the-cats (Despite the overtly cruel, cruel name). Days when the heavens-bound rings dropped to Lift our feet in one, brief swing of fairyhood Were treasured as one might costume jewelry, Or as the memory of that lump of brown sugar, Tasted just once, when mother thought it would satisfy Rather than create a craving. Some authorities discourage letting your child flip And tumble with abandon, while We breathed more breaths as Our young, disadvantaged lung capacity struggled To keep pace with our bouncing. But balance beam days were bad days. When you can still walk under the balance beam without Ducking or concussing yourself, I don't see why They make you clamber atop it twice a week when You're just going to fall. After us kids had enough of braining and winding ourselves, We would swing from the beams, Suffering the sand paper because we preferred To land on our feet. We felt quite capable of walking in a straight line, But sensibly we did it on the ground.