This is the word tightrope. Now imagine
a man, inching across it in the space
between our thoughts.  He holds our breath.

There is no word net.

You want him to fall, don't you?
I guessed as much; he teeters but succeeds.
The word applause is written all over him.

Added: on March 30th, 2006 at 7:46 PM | Viewed: 4696 times | Comments (2)

Poet: Carol Ann Duffy
Poem: Talent
Volume: Standing Female Nude
Year: Published/Written in 1985

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