It Caught Me.

I slipped on the rocks if it weren’t for your hand

Slender; slight,

a little worn.

It caught me.

I asked your eyes if you were sure

There was

So much of me

And so little of you

And everything so insecure

But They held steady,

Just like your hand.

As It caught me.

The ground fragmented and black wet rock

Split by the tilted fury of the river

As it fell

the Falls.

But I didn’t,

Because your hand,

Quiet and firm

Too delicate, but still…

It caught me.