I Tried To Learn To Juggle Poem by John W. McEwers

I kept dropping things
on the ground
and those things would split
like eggs and rotten oranges,
full of stink
and rendered useless.

Forget the fancy stuff,
like tossing something behind my back
or juggling with one hand -
- not when both hands were dumb,
palsied hams.

You never waited for me to learn,
which I would have if you'd been patient with me,
and I'd juggle you and him and her,
and my work and my poetry,
which is your poetry, because it's for you.

I'm sorry I dropped these things,
your smiles, your wants, your feelings,
and I'm sorry I dropped our children
so many times on the ground,
but I never failed to pick them back up.