Down

THERE is always hope
when things go down when you sink and shrink
like a coin flip flopping to the depths
of the storm
as one little boy watches yourself
with pity

and perhaps awe
because there is hope
for those that go down the only
tendency
is always to go up
for those that sink
the only hope is to rise
for those that shrink
they grow again on the interstices
of little spaces beneath
and within
and for those that flip flop
the only thing that you see
is the beauty of that
dance.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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