top of the world

eighteen hundred

nineteen hundred

twenty hundred

my car
has climbed me up
to the top of the world
and I
am dizzy

near to falling

a crow
hovers in the air
its shadow
on the road

black birds
above me
and below

y-a-a-a-r-k

y-a-a-a-r-k

a challenge
for me to confront
the sheer
of the road
going down

eyes down

eyes down

y-a-a-a-r-k

eyes down
for one turn

one turn
more

and one turn more
in another low gear

I’ll crawl
all of the way

y-a-a-a-r-k
y-a-a-a-r-k

to home


© Frank Prem, 2017

December 2017 Poem #11: spring creek small walk: Iris

3 thoughts on “top of the world

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