returning to the cliffs

by Bichon

the rocks below
are sharp with menace,
just waiting
with their eroded desire

you glance down,
spread your arms
and try to fly above
the dance of death

while waves rush hungrily,
covering all traces
with foam,

there is no flight back,
upwards onto the cliff

even the ivy retreats
from the cliff face,
for it is no place to roam

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a strange poem for december, i will admit. but this one is a dedication to, as many of you will know, my short novel Ã¢??ivy on the cliffsÃ¢??. this one has been sitting in my folder for a while, and i wanted to post it before the year is over. i believe the poem came after the story, but both are still special to me, and bring proud emotions when i think of them! christmas poem coming next week, do not worry! :)

free verse!
photo is from google

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