On Finding My Feet --

Past Happiness in a Changed Direction    
   
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To find myself, I looked away above the chimney top,      
behind the clouds, beyond the moon, and even past the sun,      
till whirling to each fiery eye and twinkling starry stop,      
I dropped here on this flat expanse to find myself undone --      
     
my being somewhere this side of a technicolored dream,      
the landscape black and white of wicked twisters loose and wild,      
the little fledgling fallen from the nest the bird's-eye theme,      
the cradle in the treetop tipped by lullabies beguiled --      
     
and as I peered across my own backyard along the plain,      
my value rounded me to meet the cyclone's coming pain.      
     
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