My Family in a Human Pyramid

My uncle starts it, kneeling in his garden;

my mother gives a leg up to my gran.

When it’s my turn to climb, I get a grip

of my bamp’s miner’s belt, my cousin’s heels,

say Thank you for her birthday card as I go,

then bounce on my nan’s perm and skip three rows,

land on my father’s shoulders. He grabs my ankles,

half holding me up and half holding me close.

Here he comes, my godson, Samuel Luke,

passed up until he’s standing in his nappy

on my head. And now to why we’re here:

could the Edwardses together reach a height

that the youngest one of us could touch a star?

Sam reaches out. He points towards the night.