Quarry

October 22, 2008
By Jillian Smith, Abington, MA

I stood on the edge of the man-made cliff

And took in the scene below.
Granite glistening, water rippling, still disturbed

From the last kid who dove.
I asked the granite why it beckons us to jump

Knowing we could be hurt.
But that granite laughed dryly, the sound ricocheting off the rocks.

Danger likes to flirt.


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