Narrated by John Reinhart

my daughter behind me six feet in the air, fluttering, arms outstretched to catch the breeze she yells down to me, laughing – I move faster, letting out more line, raising my daughter behind me as I stumble forward, trying to remember the feeling of arms outstretched to catch the breeze. I worry she’ll crash, pull her close against her pleas for more light. my daughter behind me comes down for lunchtime, picks dandelions only to blow their seeds; arms outstretched to catch the breeze even while her feet are on the earth where I am buried, my daughter behind me arms outstretched to catch the breeze
BIO: John Reinhart is an arsonist, father of three, and poet. He is a Frequent Contributor at the Songs of Eretz Poetry Review and recipient of the 2016 Horror Writers Association Dark Poetry Scholarship. His work has been nominated for multiple Rhysling and Dwarf Stars Awards. To date, he has penned five collections of poetry. Find his work at http://home.hampshire.edu/~jcr00/reinhart.html and @JReinhartPoet