Tannaz, a BSA student, reflects on childhood memories in this short poem.
my legs so small compared to him are wrapped
around so tight they squeeze his waist as I
am trying to hang from his neck and keep from falling
down to the ground a struggle to stay on top
he’s running down the stairs I’m flying high
I’m swinging beating against his back so fast
we zoom by I am light and he is heavy
the slipping sliding of my hands I am free in his
arms he pulls me forward slowly trying
to keep me balanced on his back beginning
to tip and slip we are heavy
our joints crack and our muscles burn from age
Be sure to check back for more of Tannaz’s and other students work!
(Photo by Giovanni Dall’Orto (2012) of Padre e figlia (1895) by Paolo Troubetzkoy at the Museo del Paesaggio)