“So I sit on the edge, wagging my feet above the abyss” – Jim Harrison
seated as a half-pint child
feet far from the floor, feeling out the fun
limbs let loose as broken elastic
with each forward swing, bright, white socks
momentarily seen, like washing on a windy line
there is regularity, a percussive rhythm
piano and forte playing on chair legs
tut-tut-tutting adults – and the reverie breaks
I’m weighted to this ledge with a heavy heart
a fixed far-ahead eye pinpoints panic
how hypnotic the infinite downrush of an abyss
a succubus of souls, temptation for even a saviour
to test belief in rescuing angels
Joining Jilly for her Harrison prompts and Day 8 of 28 Days of Reason
PoetryPix 