The Opposite of the Fear of Falling
Memories like sparkling tethers
bind me to my boyhood home
my first date with each wife
my car parked in the west lot
With the merest scent of cut grass
I’m tugged back to the side yard
playing catch with my young father
as twilight turns trees to shadow
But I feel these tethers
growing dim and fraying
no longer grounding
me to my identity
It’s the opposite of the fear of falling
I’m afraid of floating— of fading away
(For Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt and LP’s Visual Poetry Prompt, almost.)
Bartholomew Barker, Poet 
… my first date with each wife?
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Yes, I’ve had multiple wives and I can remember first date with each of them.
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The fear of fading and floating away are my lakeside shadows ..
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I must be on the right track then.
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Yes .. a shadowy track ..
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Indeed.
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With the merest scent of cut grass… isn’t it something how scents affect our memory.
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It sure is!
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You express this fear…beautifully!
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Thank you very much. At some point all that’s left of us are going to be these poems.
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I think about that too..I wonder if my last poem will be a high note or a low one:)
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I’m sure yours will be brilliant.
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