Panting,
Climbing,
I will reach the top.
Over half-way there,
I look way down behind me.
Two small, little ants look back up.
One orange,
the other brown.
They shout words at me.
Jeers or encouragement?
It doesn't matter because
I made it
to the top,
the apex
of the mountain.

Light air tickles my nose.
“Don’t jump!”
I hear their cries now.
“Don’t jump!”

But it’s too late.

Feet creeping towards the sharp edge,
I squeeze my eyes shut.
I jump
off the mountain
two feet from the ground
I fall,
I crash,
I die
inside knowing that
I failed
to fly
again.

“My turn! My turn!”
Paul climbs
while Ryan and I watch
him slowly ascend
the mountain
of the toy chest.
Because one of these days,
we will
learn to fly.