Papa

Pounced on,
like a wolf spider seizing its prey with quick talons and thick jaws,

Snatched up and spun in a circle,
like the common thief running away with the young woman’s purse,

Up and down and up and down and plateauing,
like the EKG of a white haired man going into shock for what may just be the last time,

Head spinning when your feet hit the ground,
like the first time a boy two feet taller than you decided to make a statement and to use your jaw as the podium.