Concrete Poetry

Steps

  THE LOST AND FOUND DEPARTMENT OF DREAMS: BRUSSELS 
  J. Zimmerman
                    For David.

                    "we've been around, we fall, we fly
                    we mostly fall"
                    Song of Bernadette, Leonard Cohen

  I strode off the 
   high cathedral 
    top-most step like a
     miracle worker, or a 
      Blessed 
       passing the final exam for 
        Saint. The 
         city expanded at my 
          feet. For one 
           pico-second, I 
            flew.
		  
              I fell. I can't 
               remember how 
                (bruised but 
                 unbroken) I 
                  ended, though I 
                   remember the 
                    long 
                     fall, and 
                      (this was the 
                       first time you saved me) your 
                        cat-like 
                         twist as you 

                           threw yourself 
                            faster than the grab of gravity   
                             below me, so
                              your chest protected 
                               my face, 
                                your arms 
                                 wrapped around me,
                                  your body 
                                   grated for mine against 
                                    granite, while we 
                                     tumbled like 
                                      cast-out 
                                       angels.