I am as incomprehensible as the granite
underfoot as I stand on the fence,
teetering on the post tops,
scrambling across the jagged riprap,
lava on my left,
ice on the right
wondering if I will ever touch down
and it will be enough.
Sometimes, I lean I little too much to one side
and become painfully aware of needles stabbing my cheeks,
and of the physical struggle I wage
against gravity and giving in to the wind.
My eyes hold a glare, grazing across seas of green,
hungry, nauseous.
I remain the thing that sticks out.
I pretend I can hold my composure.
I pretend I am mending, securing and building
back up
the differences between sight and seen, observed and obscure,
between then and now, overhead and right under the soles
heat rises.
The sky blended primaries and found 555 nanometres
restful to the eye. It was a gift in lieu of fight or flight.
A boulder in space time adds up,
this occupies me
for a time
as if I was getting somewhere.
as if I was getting somewhere.
Photo credit By Sonja1982 (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.
