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falling (poetry)
(two a/m, nine-nineteen-ninetynine at mrs. bs, boise, idaho)

 

he slipped, tumbling through the abyss, 

he looked at the sky, at the beauty of its blueness, 

at the wisps of clouds streaking across the expanse, 

disappearing into the horizon made by the mountain 

with its snowy peaks and draws, and its tall, gray cliffs 

blurring into a collage of grays, blacks and mottled whites 

-- at all of this he stared until, 

in the eternity that passed, 

his gaze melted into thoughts of his life, his wife, his children, 

his friends, his work and his dreams 

-- all of this mixed and bubbled and settled in his mind 

until he reached the end of thinking and all he could do 

was wait and trust that it would happen 

and happen quickly, 

that it would be over without him knowing what had happened, 

that it would come so fast that he would not have 

the lingering thought of why this was happening 

now, 

and that the warmth of darkness would cradle him, 

that soon he would know what it was like to pass beyond human, 

to something 

new, 

different, 

better?

 

 

- copyright, brien barnett, 2000