Dancing on the tightrope of a breakdown I wonder just how good my balance is, I teeter on the wire one careful footstep at a time. I don’t look down; the solid concrete waits for me below I can’t look left or right for fear I’ll lean and tip. I focus on the other side but it’s not clearly seen- Is it my eyes or has a fog rolled in to trick me- To leave me stranded and precarious. I’m developing a cramp and one toe has gone numb But still I slide the other foot along And grip with every particle of strength I own. I have to make it all the way across There is no net below to save me. But the other platform seems so far away And my umbrella feels as though it’s made of lead. Why is there no cheering from the crowd- I guess they’re fascinated by the clowns down there And never ever bothered to look up. ljm
A revision of something I wrote in 2005. I'm better at it now.