CliffA Poem by CBHWind ripples my feathers. Rips through them, Violently. I almost want to scream, but then again What would I even say? The wind takes my voice away for me, Sparing me. Truth is, she loves the adrenaline rush. She’s smitten with the wind. That cold, damp breeze. That soft spray of the ocean. The sound of water crashing into the cliff. The Cliff. My home. I’m still falling, and I’d like to think I always will. Fall forever. Never be interrupted by Well, the elephant in the room.© 2017 CBH |
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