Cane

Propping up a station wagon, propping up a tree, my legs no longer what they were, I long for more stability. Waiting for a cab or waiting for a train, I look for means to keep me upright, and when from time to time I fall, there is always someone there to lift me to my proper height. It is sure a new perspective, looking up from down below sneakers form a new departure to the places I must go. I must confess to be erect is my preferred position, walking with my third support, a cane which guides my ambulation.