Because of a poem he just read
he thinks about the first house
he can remember and tumbling
down two sets of stairs — the
basement stairs which were
steep and hard to his malleable,
pliable body. His dad rushed
him to the hospital; no bones
were broken but his nose was a
little flat against his face
for awhile. On occasion, his
parents would try to pull it.
The other stairway was the one
from the first floor to the
second. It was carpeted so the
tumbles were less painful. They
would end with a thud as his
little body hit the wall just
before the turn into the living
room. Dizzy, he would look up
at the round, stained glass
window spinning above him. He
would giggle and his mother
would yell half out of fear
and half anger.


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