Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Her tightrope. By H. Gerber

‘The tightrope’ she walks

‘between euphoria and resentment’

is how she puts it.

Euphoria perhaps too strong a word

but it is a poem,

and it’s the opposite of resentment

which I do not doubt.

I had this odd tugging in my

chest when I read that;

the ‘tightrope’ line,

I must glimpse a different life

for myself

had I chosen to give myself to a child

at 30 instead of 40.

Had I taken less trips, lovers, late nights,

drunken afternoons in bed watching rain.

Certainly I would feel it too

that ache of wonder

of what might be Now had I not;

and the ache of wonderment at

what I did choose,

that small pale hand

clasping.

Those cheeks flushed with life

and rage

and all that frustration

the small ones have at

knowing the potential of everything

yet not having the grasp

to take what

is so rightfully theirs.

I walk no tightrope with her

though I can sometimes identify

those who walk it

and my ache for them is real

but fleeting

for I know

in my less than infinite wisdom,

that what they hold today,

is what we will all ache for in the years that

are to follow.