Solid Ground

June 3, 2008
By Helen Keen, Cambridge, MA

It seems the spotlight
shines on me and
the world on my shoulders.
Each decision I make can
tilt it
from it’s precarious position,
toppling it into
the chaos of oblivion.

It seems each trouble
sits on my arms,
one more I fall
down too far,
one less I rise
too high.
Each move, each thought,
I make
could upset this
delicate balance.

Each step
could land on the
wrong side
of the border,
each word could hit
the wrong side of
the mind.
Each motion could upset
my all too temporary pose
wobbling high
above nothing,
just asking to be tipped
out of orbit.

When will I find myself
on solid ground
where my actions
affect my world
like atomic bombs,
and tip me over
the fine line
to send me toppling
into space,
back into the spotlight.

Back to where my troubles are illuminated
by harsh
inhuman light
on ground far from solid,
crumbling away
beneath me
over unwelcoming

One more I fall
down too far

Away from solid ground.

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