I didn’t fall,
I was unbalanced, like a dancer
on her tightrope. At first fully balanced
one foot in front of the other,
straight back,
with imaginary balancing pole, which lowers
the centre of gravity. It stops me circling
like a planet, levels my navel with
water’s surface. A second eye watches
the horizon, prevents me
putting a foot wrong. But
the smell of soil is the attraction, not
joining my lover in flight. The smell
of green leaves and grass, pulls, pulls,
and pulls me down. I want to become
a crustacean, own a shell-house like a snail, grow
glands to secrete a slimy trail, under my stomach
warm against the soil. I want to see
beads glow in sunlight,
sunk in the eyes of frogs and toads.
Janet Murray’s debut pamphlet, Picture This (2021), is published by Indigo Dreams
Illustration by Chris Riddell