written By
Beyond the guardrail,
narrow space cascades deep
into a rocky stream,
strewn with crisp, fresh-fallen leaves.
Across the chasm,
so near to vision,
unreachable by hand or foot,
tall, straight oaks stand sentry.
Their swaying branches gesture,
Indicating unseen meadows just beyond,
Forget-me-not fields,
blue as the unremembered.
Seeing the gnarled metal,
cold and senseless
at the blacktop’s edge,
I hug the center line.
Like you, mother, signs admonish:
Slippery when wet;
Beware falling rocks,
remind me fear is safety.
One day I will eschew
this slow, ascending slalom,
take the leap across,
join you in the melancholy grove.
