JETTATURA

If I could watch with my eyes closed,
I would know how you move. But I am
blinded by the sweep of your arm, my good
intentions falter, and I forget about
words.
As though balanced on toe
on a rickety old chair,
I posture and prance, then
dive,
knowing itís my last possible chance
to keep
from
falling.

Behind this desperation in my eyes,
I am learning to fly.

Cheryl Hicks

If you've any comments on her poems, Cheryl Hicks would be pleased to hear from you.
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