The grace and terror of falling

Happily reminded me of another old poem to share:

~~~~
cliffs

the charcoal-green mountain's cool eyes
settle in us marble stone
where a diamond would sleep.

a ghost has snuffed the candle Sun-

forest-black rivers lay snakes in winter,
and dirty cotton sky is torn on shrapnel of earth,
as masked children run from gas, off cliffs.

2004 j.krampert
~~~~