shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Lisa Meserole

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Mind Body Falling

My thoughts skid out of icy ruts, fight
to stay in the race, then slip with bare feet
on wet tile and crash on my sacrum.
But when I miss the bottom steps
of my childhood front stoop,
my mid-life body like a dancer falls,
all breath and no bone,
a handmade quilt she folds
down to earth in flow.
My mind doesn't trust without railings
but my body, she knows to be soft with gravity,
her limbs land on stone slabs
a starfish on sea bottom.
I love how she meets the foot loose edge –
dripping with surrender.