Slip Over the Edge


Quietly slip over the edge
Disappear without a trace.
Follow the old trails.

The canyon trails are worn smooth
by bare feet or reed sandals.
Centuries old hand-holds are still there.

Trails wind down to hidden pools.
Deep shade is cool below the canyon rim.
Hot sunlight is a stranger down here.


The breeze builds toward the afternoon
channeled up the walled canyon.
It’s cool among the willows.

A dove bathes in the shallow stream.
A hummingbird hovers for an instant
checking you out.

Time passes slowly down here but
centuries could skip by unobserved;
quietly slipping over the edge.


     *     *     *

Enchanted, More or Less – 2017



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