Palisade Girl

 

 

She stepped off the blue stone precipice,

majestic, proud,

beaming with fortitude,

she’d made up her mind

before I could reach out my hand

One last step

and over the cliff she went

 

For a moment I thought

she’d extend her arms,

fly like the gulls that had congregated,

circling, curiously above the river

waiting for something to happen;

the branch about to break,

the clouds about to burst,

the sun about to rise,
but she is gone without a scream,

just pure elegance,

lost to the palisades

and committed to the days

of her youth

 

 

copyright 2001, Frank Messina

 

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