i remember resting on the descent,
sitting still and thinking hard,
just waiting for that warm ache in my belly,
listening close for the buzzing chorus
( blessed symphony of strings ) then
feeling it and hearing it and knowing it,
i could get up again and rappel off the rocky face.

these days i still sit still and think hard,
just waiting ( oh please ) for whatever it was
that made me unafraid. but there are no strings.
only a muted sigh, my bones scraping,
the TV chirping. and i don’t know anymore,
but i think i’ll just stay put. right here in

my own damn crevasse.