On the High Wire

balancing on tiptoe between faith and fear
I suddenly understand the need for parasols

not just to aid in fall-prevention measures
but to shield against the thoughts
that pummel down from clouds
where Worry waits

she must have played college ball
such an arm on her
hurling nuggets of nightmares
at my unprotected head
laughing when her aim is true

while I’m left gasping
trying to focus
on looking straight ahead
ignoring the fate
that will rush up to meet me
the second my footing is false

I would choose a pretty parasol
with two pink flamingoes
surrounded by red hibiscus flowers

their necks would wrap around
to form a heart

and people on the ground
would squint into the sun
and then move on
indifferent

worries don’t begin from down below