Arm's Length

On high-rise

tightrope

hovering

506 feet up

in mid-air

you were there,  

balancing

bravely behind me,

and

I kept you at

arm's length

knowing well enough

my faithful feet

could carry me

alone.

Several times your

hand rushed

into mine,

but shoving it aside

I kept you at

arm's length,

and a

sudden jolt

brought me to

a circus clown’s

suicide fall,

leaving you anxious on

shaky twine while peering down

over a disjointed ragdoll’s

resting place.

If only,

oh, if only,

I hadn’t

kept you at

arm's length

for then

I’d still

be there

with

you...

or would I?