Pestilence Poem by Ward Kelley

Such an Arc
Ward Kelley

All fall down, all fall down, it is not
the pestilence who causes this awkward

trait of our race, for we each of us tote
the code, deep within our heart, that tells

of the proper timing of our shooting towards
the sun — how many years we go upward —

and the correct date where it all stops —
some of us quite abruptly — and we begin

our descent towards the earth. Up then down,
up then down, where truly we all go round

and round, but it’s hard to describe such an arc
when our eyes are designed to see the vertical.