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The Tumble



I went through life backwards and upside down,
less acrobat than clown.

I bounced off others once or twice:
yeah, it was nice.

But they went that way when I went this,
with very little time for bliss.

Down, down the wretched hill I rolled:
suddenly, I was old.

Now, below, nothing can lift me back above.
Not even love.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.