Halfway Up

He climbed half up a snowy emerald tree
and peered below and waved his hands at me.

With legs held on, he laughed and smiled back down,
to angry dad – a force back home – but now

become a frantic dot. I shook what must
have seemed such tiny fists; called up and gave

the wind reproof; reached out and stretched my arm
to him and hoped my son would not be harmed.

 

PAD Challenge 16: write a half-way poem

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