Tomorrow

This is a poem trying to capture the differences in life and pitfalls of it.

Two girls stood at the head of a mountain trail;

one path was zip-lines spindling through the canopy,

the other, a rickety bridge.

The zip-liner needs a helmet

maybe some protective pads.

She speeds down the mountain

not a second to look.

Caught against the thick mattress

tied at the junction of her lines,

her shoulder aches, she waits.

Staring down the gully of trees

she listens to the drags of life

below her, and considers joining them.

The bridges are boardwalks, and suspensions

with planks missing, or three ropes

with frayed edges and caught lines

suspended above shattering heights.

One hole at a time, she lurks across.

If she stops, perhaps her feet will stumble

like a bike tipping without training wheels.

Momentum is no less a factor, than a way of motivation,

keep moving. The next hill 

will be its own 

challenge.

Both girls come out the other side

red-faced and panting

screaming "Hallelujah" in a hoarse voice.

Their hair is matted and dirty with leaves

and brambles of the mountain paths.

Their clothes ripped and tattered just the same.

Perhaps when it's all said and done, they'll sit down

with a cup of wine or vodka in a little village

down the road from the mountainside

and discuss the gullies they saw.

Author's Note

I'd love some site specific details about font size standards and type face info as well as feedback on the content.

Reviews

[Botania]

Feels like a short story brewing here. The scene, although the same, is interpreted in two distinctly different ways because of different travel methods. Would have liked to have "felt" the difference more through further description. The space of a story would be nice. Wondering more about the girls. Why would one girl choose one method over the other? Wondering what the choice says about their personalities. Font size fine. Keep going.