when did I become afraid
scrambling across the cliff face
above the Coquihalla
all boys are fearless
drink wiped away reserve
I swung my leg over the railing
twenty stories up I thought it poetic
glances at the man next to me
the stranger in the café quiet, composed
showing no signs of hate
peering like a thief into empty cars
scouring the street for signs
waiting for the fire
my steps have become less certain
as the imperfections of each road
rise up like tricksters to take me down
About the Creator
Christopher Francis
I began writing as a child, continued as an adult and worked briefly as a professional. Literature and music were and are my passions. Then life got in the way. Now, at 66 they have returned and I am giving them my full attention. Ta da.
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Miniature Mind Musings #8:
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