Nette Onclaud, Snapshots of a Night Scene, 5/18/2026
The wind whispers against the craggy rock. Its warm breath holding on, precipice-pressed. Heart-pounding mountains echoing the mock. Plummeting eagle in plumes of inquest. Goliath shoulders boost my eyes upward. I do not recall scaling down the rock. A wild ride; ‘somehow, this view left me floored.’ Frozen skyward, where wind tells secrets, shocks. I cling to wet rocks, as my apogee. Wind wraps ‘round whitecaps - life’s no guarantee.
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