the tightrope twins:
so full of grace
such a glorious career
balancing teacups and bowling pins
gulping fistfuls of oxygen
dragging worn chairs
across the rusty wire
never once glancing down
to the eyes peered skyward
wishing us to fall
beneath our tattered canvas heaven.

Reach for me…
always, my twin.
Sometimes my hands are slippery,
I know, and my back is tired.
But just reach for me.
I’ll be there.
Haven’t I proven that.
Do I still get the job?
It’s just balance.
Not the wire, or the teacups, or the
yokels down below.
Just balance…
that keeps our souls aloft.