Midair Part One

This is my first attempt at this style of poetry :)

I hover at the edge.

My feet, my knees

they dangle

midair.

Does it matter anymore?

I’m halfway

there.

Hours pass.

Shadows

Bite:

They bite hungrily

at my feet,

Down, they beckon.

Fall.

Is anyone there?

Alarmed,

I retreat; I stand.

The flashlight glances off

the cliff

with a glare

As does the echoing voice

I run.

The voice calls;

It calls

For me.

Return, it seems to cry

To the cliff,

Return.

Thorns adorning the tangled bramble,

Hinder my escape

And

Gladly

Mark me

Guilty.

The cabin where my family sleeps

Soundly

Greets me with a shroud

And windowed eyes

Possessed

By moonlight

Fear shakes

my hands, my arms.

I run

Past the cabin, past the picnic area,

And farther inland.

But my necklace

Now lies in the ravine.

Tomorrow, I would return.

The grave silence

Welcomes me.

My feet

Dangle

Once again.

Oh, how they dangle

Midair!

Reviews

[Marianne Rose]

This poem moves me, which is what art is supposed to do I think. I can feel the draw to the cliff's edge, hear the voice that calls, see you run. It is filled with images and depth. I love the first verse, it draws me in. I love that you return to the cliff and the title "midair". Because I have been to cliffs of my own, I relate, and leave the poem with concern, wanting to reach out and draw you back to ground.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the cliffs of life...sometimes we want to retreat from the edge, other times dive headlong...

the necklace is there...like a part of me i threw into the ravine, hoping the rest of me would follow.

but here i still sit, haunted by choices, and dangling.

nicely expressed piece...i like the allegory.

j.

[RELavender]

I like it a lot. The one word lines are really good with the rhythm, and help the reader get the feel of the piece. Good job.