The Cliff

by Birdie Houston

Silently she stood,
Her toes flexing on very edge of the cliff,
Looking 6,000 feet down,
At an opened pit,
Wondering if she fell,
Would there be butterflies 
tickling around inside her stomach?
Wondering if she plunged,
Would the skies seem,
A little less blue...on the way down?
Every inch of the cliff...
Gave way where she was standing,
All but the core crumbled,
Sitting clinged like a ball,
Grabbing her knee's,
Snuggly against her chest, 
She wondered if anyone would find her?

The Cliff by Birdie Houston

© Copyright 2003. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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