Free Falling

Free Falling

If I were to slip and fall off a building,
What would happen to me when I descend?
Would it be seconds, hours, or years of tumbling
down, a clipped pigeon nose-diving to its end?
Mirrored windows would pass me by in train-tracked
rhythm, and if I could, I would reach out
and stop my ride. I think I will have lacked
the faith to see it through to the end, with the devout
birds crying ‘God is with you’, when I see an alley cat;
pavement nearing. I would sooner learn to fly
than feel myself go splat.
Maybe I will get the chance to say goodbye.
And when the pavement restores its color,
who will remember the pigeon faller?