on the high wire

your life
as a trapeze
artist is coming
to an end.
you've aged.
your balance
is not what it
used to be.
you wobble
on the high wire,
you can barely
climb
the rope ladder
to begin your
act.
they wait for
you to fall.
they stand
and gasp as you
begin your
walk on bended
knees.
you know it's
time to quit,
but it's what
you do. what
gives you joy,
it's impossible
to stop. so out
you go, one bare
foot in front
of the other,
between heaven and
earth is where
you live.