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Waiting at the edge of the world

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There is a little crevice where you can stand
– hang on, it’s wobbly! –







and watch the hazy clouds drift by.
The soft pitter-patter
of your heart quickens;
the air is fresh like razors



sharpened after a morning shave.
You feel a push
a steady, slow
“here you go!”



and you are falling
slipping off
ceasing to exist
letting go –

Free.



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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

Sue S. said...
Jul. 11, 2012 at 9:16 pm:
I love your choice of words. Good job!
 
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JPeterson1 said...
Jul. 11, 2012 at 9:15 pm:
Beautifully written, very poetic!
 
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