Precipice

A poem about change.

By Black Bird via Pexels

It was the precipice
the edge
of two
lingering realities

Laden with everything
never said
never known
never asked

the last of it
A mercurial sky
tempest-swept

riddled with
memories half
woken

moon shadow
scattering
like hail

dancing in the remnants
of its own disbelief

For still we fall
and still we fly