It's a strange contraption - two high poles sticking up on either side of a huge trampoline, with bungies running from the top of the poles to a harness in the middle. Various sizes of children are strapped into the harness by a man with big muscles. Something electrical happens and they ricochet up into the air, higher than the tops of the poles, their hair flying, their faces cracked into grins. It's set up next to the river running through the shopping centre - maybe a couple of hundred people are sitting in small groups on the concrete steps going down to the water on either side, eating or chatting. Then a grown-up, with a little weight on her, steps up to the trampoline - she says she's watched the children bounce for two years, she says she's ready. She gets strapped in and gets pinged up into the air where she shrieks a little and then bounces up again, higher. People sitting across the river start to notice her, and by the time she does a backward somersault mid-air there's an 'ooh!' from the crowd. When she steps off there is a surge of cheering: we wish we had the guts, and we are feeling happy for her; we are feeling this all together.
(I've been nominated for Poet Laurete of the Blogosphere by Poetisphere - if you'd like to vote go here. Thanks!)
