DOWNSIDE UP

When he walked out of his house on Tuesday morning,
Adam’s sidewalk leapt above his head and careened
toward his car, which rested on its roof. 

Adam glanced down, below the treetops whose leaves 
tickled his feet, and saw blue sky, wispy clouds, a flock
of sparrows. Whirring above his head the sprinkler showered 

the air with drops that cascaded up into the thirsty lawn.
Dizziness dimmed Adam's eyes and he felt himself fall, 
ascending toward the sidewalk and the sprinkler spray.

When he opened his eyes, his head ceased its spin.
Everything was in its place again—the sidewalk 
rough under his cheek, the arch of sprinkler droplets 

showered downward into the parched grass, 
the car stood with wheels down
and sunlight on its roof.

The sparrows flittered to rest in the upward-reaching
branches of the red-leafed maple. Adam stood, brushed 
the dust from his pants and looked back at his house.

The front door opened. He saw himself 
step out into the morning, 
upside down.

Silver Blade Magazine, May 2020