I am falling

Without the sensation

Of falling –

Fear is a solid object

I carry in my hands.

The sky around me

Is soaked in India ink

But below the lights

Of a half-asleep city


Even the choppy waters

Of the harbor

Are gold tipped,

As if a giant window

Spills its light across an

Impossible distance.

If I am dead

I’d be ascending,

Instead, I see the Battery

And the dimly-lit window

Of a writer writing.

Suddenly, I know.

Darkness and light,

In equal measure combine

And draw me to where

So many left lives,

And windows,

And lovers behind.

If only I could

Find my voice –

I would say each name,

And each name

Would become a prayer

Of faith and redemption.

But I am falling,

Without the sensation

Of falling –

The fear slips through

My fingers

As I become a reflection

Of first light

On the East River.

Author: Virginia Wagner Galfo

These are scary times. Prepare yourself to take a stand for what is right. God damn it, just be kind!

2 thoughts on “Falling”

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