The Leap

Beyond shadow-dapples
and a rickety gate,
boats nod on a sparkling river,
no longer anchored.
That’s me. I am no longer
anchored to a silent house.
My unsteady enchainment de pas
takes me to the water,
an ugly duckling,
weighty and blinking.
I try to leap,
throw my pandemic body at the sky
in a grand Jeté,
hoping to take off and fly
like a graceful swan.
But Covid has clipped my wings;
I limp back to the garden,
tumbling and croakily cawing,