Cinquain Whir

another precarious morning to slip on
the surface of things best left unsaid
before the sirens the sound of boots
storming up the narrow stair
a door bursts open

the rooftop chapter ends before it begins
guitars and amps
a voice pauses mid-note
the view from a helicopter
as it hovers over an inevitable distance

between crooked smile
and withering glance
her Plan B begins
with scorched strands
of another alphabet

and sugar water she would draw
into an eye dropper
for the hummingbird please
come spring
she whimpers

I will
I will not fall
I will not fall over
I will not fall over the edge

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s