The
famous hard skiing trail
On
our Nebraskan land
With
no snow
Comes
up ahead as we all stop
The
blazing sun was like fire
On
my black boots
Heating
the tasteless water in my water bottle
So
its not ice cold anymore
I
walk to the edge of the even ground
Peering
over what seems like
The
end of the world
Preparing
myself to not fall
Sitting
on the edge of the cliff
I
gripped the graveled rock
Pulling
my arm back like a windup
And
throwing as hard as I can
The
rock hits the clear blue rapids
Behind
the cedar trees’ twisted line
With
a quite splash
Ruining
the silence
Behind
those warped trees
Anything
could be there
A smelly
people-eating giant
Or
a rainbow colored dragon
My
stomach stated snarling
Concluding
that I was hungry
So
I grabbed the unopened box
Of chocolate-y
oatmeal cream pies
Standing
slightly sideways in the silence
I
realized the cliff could be like a sanctuary
Calming
all my senses
And
at an instant giving me a place to think
No comments:
Post a Comment