Summer's First Fall

I remember my tiny feet,

red shoes ready to break,

a swift pause at the edge of a slide,

worn gray metal from old socialist times,

confusion about the survival of slides,

and the world as it lasted, or survived.

the wind pushed me softly, I laughed and I cried,

I wasn't ready to go down on that slide,

it was too steep, too wild for my style,

I feared its curve more than its fire,

my heartbeat combusting, a breath of viking,

my hand would eventually let go,

gravity turned out to be unstoppable,

for my first fall.

that summer I cried,

it was the beginning of a magical ride

called life.