Recently I have become
very good at falling off things.
Ladders, trestles, tables and chairs,
the back of the sofa, my bike,
an upturned bucket,
a pile of bricks.
I’m not particular,
as long as it’s above ground level
and in an area of good gravity 
I can find a way to fall off it.
I haven’t been
particularly prideful of late
so I don’t think it’s that,
it’s more to do with
not accepting how 
old I am.
But maybe that’s
the worst sort of pride there is,
because with age comes wisdom,
and wisdom and pride are sworn enemies.