Dangling

The dangling done
by the body at the end of the rope
is tragic when encountered
unexpectedly, especially if
the dangler is familiar
and was a friend or loved one.
At that moment the dangling
seems sinister and the antic jerking
of feet becomes more battlefield spasm
than circus ring gag to most,

but someone always laughs.

We scorn the ones who laugh,
suspect their humanity 
and call them animal or worse.

Those who can recall
the totality of all the dangling feet
they’ve ever seen
from cartoon comic to vaudeville,
from gallows and noose
to bedsheet and balcony,
are scolded, shunned, or shouted down

just as we have always done with those
who think as well as feel;
as we have always done with those 
who see all sides at once;
as we have always done with those
who cannot narrow in enough
to meet our narrow expectations.

They leave us cold.  
They leave us unexpectedly fragile
and disinclined to laugh with them.
They see everything at once

and we only let them back in
when we need them.