This morning

I found myself.

I was at Rockefeller Center,

And early for an appointment.

So

I stopped

Above the skating rink

And watched.

Even at 8:30 in the morning

There were skaters,

Of all sorts, and skills.

Some lurching, some gliding,

And some moving,

Like poetry.

And it occurred to me,

That life is like that

Slippery at times.

Sometimes we lurch

Sometimes we glide

And sometimes,

With the help of love

We move like poetry.