Sometimes
my heart is on
the flying trapeze
launched into nothing
but a spinning, free fall
of motion.
My stomach is an acrobat
flipping end over end
in my midsection.
I practice this routine daily.
Each time
I wonder whether you
will be there to catch my
outstretched hand.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Oh, circus references...
Oh. The last stanza is lovely.
(I totally want more before that, though. Lots more.)
Post a Comment