As I Fell

As I fell,

at daybreak’s edge,

gravity and ice,

the conquering duo,

I had just enough time to think,

“I’m falling.”

 

Bird seed spilled,

I went back inside for more,

with enough time

to think,

“what if?”

 

In retrospective recollection,

with ensuing pain

in arm and hip,

I’m thinking,

how many “what if’s”

are left to me?

 

When,

if so careless again,

will a fall become

“what!”

without

the “if?”

 

At morning’s edge,

I fell,

and got back up.

 

With the throb

of bruise and strain,

gravity and ice

the conquering duo,

 

“what if?”

IMG_3806

 

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