No one can walk
a little mile
who never takes
that one first step. . .

and sometimes
fears build up
so high a pile,
that to spy the mile
induces quakes–
as quaky as they get,

It is more fun
into joy than shivery fear
to dive and smile,
as best one can,
for smiling easy movement makes. . .

and luck
is much more apt to come,
once that first sure foot
steps in,
to place its first bold bet.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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