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.
Moments last in a look
a passing of a page
at the close of a book
Scaling down
the rhymed line.
Auburn-gold leaves drop from the trees,
Frail the grey skies, waning the sun.
A seagull wheels it final glide
Night winds cloak the mute of evening
I hear echoes through the rooftops,
Flurries scaling down on pane.
Autumn brings kinfolks together
For warm approach of gratitude!
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