Below, Above

She ascends the stepladder, tiptoes
the top shelf to reach the picture rail.

It’s secure. She clicked the hinge lock.
Found the flat surface for each foot.

She does as she does
a hundred times before.

Yet, I still find myself below,
knees with a slight bend,

arms in front, tense, to ready
a chance she might lose her balance.

After all, for the number of times
she’s caught me, it’s the least I can do.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s