The sheriff's helicopter banked and then
Cut close enough to the trees to count
The needles, en passant, each passenger
A captured pawn in the game of comments
On how beautiful is this perpendicular,
Swooping world. A whirling miracle,
Impossible to contemplate two centuries ago
And improbable still a century after that,
Might as well have been a village fair pony
Ride by the time the 21st-century daughter
Was boosted into her bucket seat and belted
Against the unthinkable fall from the sky.
We're all angels here now, and utterly
Enchanted and terrified. What we climb
By the invisible mind of cooperation, not
Just between the living, but down, down
Tens or hundreds of generations, is empty
Of any explanation for how or who we are.
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