At the painted cliffs
my children
breathed in the world
lungs enlarging
with each inhalation
until lighter than air
they were levitating
over the smooth worn stones
of the shoreline
skimming up striated sandstone
like laughing spiders
hovering above me
– my playful angels –
in that golden moment
when the sun dipped
to meet the distant hills
and my children
owned the earth.