Balancing Act

You’re getting good, he thought to his little boy, speeding ahead.

Feet tapping so lightly, elbows pointing, little fists clenched.

First your red scooter with two wheels at the back, soon a skateboard.

I wonder, could you teach me again, child, for I’ve lost the knack.

And as I follow behind you looking down over mini fields and hedgerows,

I walk on an invisible tight rope, gripped by middle life,

As if everything’s held in the balance.

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