That gypsy knows one step at a time
leads her out from the pit of despair
into the air to breathe, breathe in,
freedom from love’s sad malady.
How long, how long, she asks of no one
before she misses all the weak spots
that send her tumbling head over heels
down to the bottom again?
Time this time is not on her side
and she knows to rush to the top
but still there’s the fear weak spots will appear
in places and times beyond her foresight.
She ferrets somewhere for strength to endure
and for patience to be certain and sure
that where she treads is stable and set
to bear the burden she must dissipate.
There she goes! She’s made it halfway
and tomorrow, tomorrow, perhaps tomorrow
she’ll finally, finally, emerge unscathed
from a pit that no longer exists!