Counterbalance

Counterbalance
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Be-
     wild-
ered as 
to why
floorboards cry louder on
birthdays when the baby’s
sleeping.              They must feel
     weight of year’s travails.

Another dawn, again

& again, new. Days take over;
                         the unforgiving bright holding
old decisions to
greet body at day—
break. Shadow:
  a part of me—
      apart of me.
       second self                      haunting 
earth.

Every step, foot-
falls louder.
Of all the eaves,
             awnings,
                and ends,
      that grey between of
journey’s         precipice
  is the ineffable
fate of all:                           slipping past
edge to black 
swallow.

Limbs toward light;
a subtle rage                  against that gentle
                                                    passing.