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
Going down is always more scary
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Going up was a shocker Derrick. Was actually easier – gentler – on the other side.
Once was enough.
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I’m sure. No way would you get me up there
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