So I’m carried along
and it’s slow and steady to begin with
but the path is smooth, man-made.
It’s ok, but I don’t get to choose where to go.
The ground becomes uneven
– it had to happen at some point I guess.
I feel the bumps and bounce around
I put my hands out now and then
finding the sides, the edges.
I don’t feel safe but
I close my eyes to make it better.
Suddenly there’s a jolt, bigger than before
and for a moment I’m weightless, with a feeling of freedom, a rush of euphoria;
then I’m on the floor and lancing pain rams through my brain.
Grit embedded in my knees,
and palms I can’t close;
it’s going to take ages to get the stones out
and I can’t do it in my own, not with damaged hands.
I look at the upturned wheelbarrow-
why did I ever think I’d be safe in that?
A bucket on a wheel that can’t even work on its own.