Life on stilts

Stands on stilts,
Propping me up,
Each little prop,
Warts and all,
So needed,
So treasured.
The chemicals and the humans,
The talks and the hugs,
Words written in books,
Said by men and women,
The sky God,
And His angels,
Beings living and breathing
Around me,
Phone calls from mother,
And the talks on the couch,
A warm bed and a drink,
Props – one and all.
Each one so fragile,
Weak and transient:
Yet it’s my need
To believe in them.
Life is a balancing act
On stilts and props,
Across a chasm.
I dare not look down!


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