Phoenix was a Figure Skater

Phoenix was a figure skater
Falling was normal

No matter what move you did—
spin, Axel, spiral,

forward, backward—often
you fell

Phoenix didn’t fear a fall
because ice was less hard

than harsh in its unwavering
tenderness. Though each

blade scrape and toe-pick jab
cut lines and shadows

like wrinkles across its face,
ice responded by staying

itself: young, clear,
refreshable

Did Phoenix prefer landing jumps
to falling on them?

We do not know
For when he fell

he was less shocked than quick,
standing up right away

so as not to be in the way
of another skater

barreling toward him
into a jump

Phoenix was never surprised
at seeing others fall, either—

beginners or Olympic athletes
It’s what they did together

out in the open in front
of each other and the casual spectator

So later when virus,
accident, attack

happened

he was not surprised
to find himself

on hands
and knees

for life was a slip,
the body thrashed

as in rapids
less than a second

after it had been free
of gravity and ground,

God’s sweet spot
in the air

Phoenix rose because his soul
was ice

When burned and scalded
it became light
as air