We were so sure
we’d never need them again.
We had this walking upright thing
down pat, no need for balance or
to swing from the trees, no matter
how sweetly they called us.
We’d chop them all down instead, or
admire them from the ground, or
climb them for childish sport
and then come back down, walk
on our feet, our ridiculous hands
dangling at our sides.
Reach down — do you feel
that little cob of bone?
We could still turn this thing
around, regain our proper
branches, a new leaf nest
every night and a tail
to call our own.