At the top of the outcrop
I sat with my knee-bones tight to my chest—

the river undulated
below, swirling
in shades of blues and yellows

refracted light on stones of marble

the guttural current cut the cliff
to slices–jagged & twisted and

breathless, me
dangling high alongside roots
of trees barely latched.

Winter could claw my fingers
to paws and electric lights
could knit my hair to socks yet
here I shall be

eternally with knees tight to my chest,
staring with reverence
at the earth-shaping current.