An old man at the edge of a cliff
Looking over a majestic canyon,
A roiling slash of river running far below.
So many years past, opportunities missed,
Pleas ignored, withered heart.
A small hand in his reminding him of
Inescapable matters. A quick look down, a
Reassuring smile masks somber memories.
He closes his eyes and feels the breeze
On his body, the sun on his face, the
Vastness of the landscape, a speck of
Insignificance perched on the precipice.
Life perdures uninterrupted but for
Those denied solace by fear and gall.
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