dash
Tightrope 

She holds one end of it. He guards the other
but they both look away. The boy between them
learns how to walk along the rope each day,

keeping his balance, gazing straight ahead.
He edges toward one endpoint or the other,
now in the middle, always in the middle.

Both ends draw back at once. The cable snaps.
He falls. One of them yells, "This is your fault!"
The other runs to catch him.

Claudia Gary

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Claudia Gary
would be pleased to hear them.


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