Gliding to Earth

A soft landing,
Just missing the bench
At the foot of the bed,
Where I do stretches daily.

Not a high speed leap.
That often results in injuries or insults.
I merely sat down ever so close to the bench,
Descending to where my eye, not my butt, was aligned.

I sit here, unharmed, considering alternatives.
Perhaps the bench is unhappy with me
And repositioned itself
To express disapproval?

As I stood alongside the two foot wide,
Four foot long, two foot high bench,
I managed to miss the flat surface.
Guess I am no longer a circus high-wire candidate.

I’ve heard that if a fall does not kill you,
It makes you stronger.
Maybe, if I just sit here, on the floor,
My butt muscles will become “steel buns”.

If I had been drinking
My excuse would be simple and silly.
No, that doesn’t work.
Think I’ll sit here until I find a better story,
Or I’m called for supper.