Foals

It happened again.

I caught myself right on the edge

all that was said

‘thank you’

a moment so unremarkable

right on the zenith of the mundane

I am so very lost,

when I find myself near that drop

I want to melt into tears

how neatly you can stifle the closing of the throat and welling of the eyes

with laughter,

a gymnast falls mid-routine and your untrained eye thinks

it is part of the performance.

I step away

Afterwards,

I see my self from afar and moving further still

lightyears from the wellspring

a new horse sways on virgin legs made to run and your untrained eye thinks

how beautiful it is to fall.

And I laugh at the dumb wet foal,

trying to find its feet.