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Clipped
it is not raining
yet the sky seems like
a tall waterfall
bones crack
under the weight of falling water
if I crane my head up
my eyesight get washed away
as a kid
drowning in a lake
the sky not the water held me down
the water was trying to push me up
the sky turns your mind to rock
just another falling rock
All wings falter
nuts and bolts come loose
seams open
despite daily inspections
you begin to rattle
Like when kayaking
I flew over the edge of a waterfall
the gravity of light-weight mountains
can send you plunging
yet it is in our very nature
to spread tinfoil wings
hope and theorize
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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