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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