We sit there, alone
On the edge of the World.
We sit there, bracing
For the fall of the World.
Our feet dangle
Toes a darkened brown.
Our hands grip,
Knuckles white with tension.
Our necks crane,
Arching in a stiff angle
To get a better view
Of the place we dwell.
We lean further, further out
The bottom is so far, distant.
We try to see,
What’s hidden underneath,
The Water,
The World,
Us.
The grass and dirt and rock
That we’ve become
Inhabits us, roots us.
But the bottom,
The surging water, a breathing monster,
Leaves cascades and open rocks,
An empty table top.
The bottom swells,
Roaring at us, hissing wind
In our face.
It calls our name,
Its siren knows, personal.
We sit there, alone
In our own dense World.
We sit there, scared
In the wake of everything.
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