Thursday, February 24, 2022

Heights, Terzata #35

Afraid of heights, I climbed a tower

Made of steel and wooden stairs.

At the top I watched clouds cower


From the sun. I whistled ancient airs

As I teetered on a platform

And vultures flew by in pairs.


I existed in the eye of a storm

With no lightning, wind, or rain

Blasting my human form.


I refused to celebrate the pain

That grew inside me on the hour.

I saw myself look down again —

Fall like a meteor shower.


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