The Fall
Evening, its cage opened, is the apple in my hand
I gave reprieve to the dogs and we went running
Freedom should not be made of castles in the sand
The leash tripped me hard, suddenly I am tumbling
I could not break the fall nor halt my fierce velocity
Earth rose to meet my splattered knees and wrists
In savage welcome back to the cradle of mortality
My pain and absence was only one fall out from hubris
For days I neither wrote nor think again, it hobbled me
My body falling through gravity, from the apple tree
I was brambled, and I saw the worm that gnawed us
Crawling beside my face pillowed in the evening dust.
Shall I call this an accident still
Or just the treason of unseen will?
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010
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