Fear and Gravity
A young boy of about 12 lean years ran down the driveway,
arms outstretched for balance,
he slid across the narrow panes of ice
filling the shallow troughs worn into the pavement.
My head is down, waddling towards the car,
inspecting every step for hints of calamity lurking
between the bricks, urging me to fall
like an old oak in a storm.
“Careful - it’s slippery” I said,
the standard greeting of the middle-aged;
an acknowledgment of the countless harms
seeking our mortal flesh.
Knowing they had no business with this boy,
my words fell into the snow like black stones,
leaving him to glide in joy,
free from fear and gravity.
Copyright 2019 by C. Max Schenk - all rights reserved, or at least cautiously guarded