falling through the floor
she was on the second floor
of the old country barn when
the worn wooden slats cracked
under her diminutive frame
undermined not by weight
but by unstoppable time
as her body slipped down
into the expanding hole
her grandfather leapt for her
razor-sharp mind outwitted
by his 70-year-old frame
he grabbed for her arms
but she’d already vanished
as if she’d never existed
his fingers clutched the air
she’d recently passed through
air that was now filled with
the sound of crying from below
where she was sprawled, unhurt
on a pile of new hay
20 November 2013
Oak Street
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