Mindful of Little Things

25 oct 2014

A squirrel nimbly shows the path,
scampering leaps over uneven bark.

Blue sponge floors decorated with purplepinkgrey craggy stone rocks.
Can I trust myself to land precisely, turning slightly in mid-air?

Fear is rounded edges of a slide seen from a sunshine yellow slabs of concrete.
It’s not the distance or the height.
Legs feel leaden and inept.

Little rivets on a smooth round rail unbalance me.
My toes pay attention to grey craggy juddering.
One inch of a 2-metre wall taunts me.
Pink shattered glass on sombre remnants of a shelter that used to be.

Puddles make my shoes slip, my body tenses to compensate.
Taking one less step each time,
feet seeking familiar places.

White boundaries crossed out by silver slides.
Remembering when I had no fear of falling.
Again.

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