as they climb, she finds grip of branchen’d tree as lift from ground to sky,

as they climb, she finds grip of branchen’d tree as lift from ground to sky, a view unseen before, for no means were given, ‘cept the wing’ed kind,
and she, she laughs, having dug high in heaven’s reach of sappen’d mind, a perch long-looked from feet, ’til reached with hand and reversal’s sight, reversed,
and he, he stalls, hoping scene to be but soon-f’ot memory, lang’d from place to ‘motion, turned in eyes as though uncaught by skin, ‘cept mind, alone
when fallen, she, in air, hangs soul to breeze, to calm calamity, swept by wind, thrown and knotted, tense
when fallen, she, in air, holds sight of he, and he, in turn from self, grants wish of she and lands before her,
cracked and bleed’

when plucked from ground, she, through rush of feet, leads him with cry to need the hand and hot-wet eye of mother, tallest, worried, worried by a scream from lungs, near dry