The last time we leapt like this
many of us could not imagine
leaping again, much less for joy,

stuck as we were at home,
forbidden to see, let alone
touch, others outside our

bubbles. Four years down
the road, we find ourselves free
to roam about as we please,

walking, dancing, leaping, living
these lives for which we find
ourselves ever more grateful,

this freedom of movement
a gift we hadn’t known
could be rescinded—

this extra day also a gift
of catch-up time, not least
for Leaplings, who celebrate

the day of their births once
every four years. So leap already.
Take a big running one,

if you can, over, say, a ribbon
of water. Land with your two
(or four) good feet squarely

in the next month, marching
toward a new season, with, yes,
a jaunty spring in your step.

•••

With thanks to Sue Reynolds, James Dewar and Whiskey, for their hospitality
and gracious hosting of this California visitor last fall.