I miss
talking to you –
just words, tumbling spillling –
building pathways, bridges, doorways
for us

we’re building walls,
smooth and pale as marble,
so high it’s hard to reach and place
new stones

and yet
we bring out steps
we make the effort, climb
ladders, raise those white walls ever

we carve
harsh words, shed tears
into the stone. We set
our fear, our anger, solidly
too deep

we need
fire, flood, storm, something fierce –
reminding us of what we stand
to lose

A Crapsey cinquain for Laura at dVerse.

20 thoughts on “Danger

  1. The sad thing is those extreme weather events – or the tenuous situation with Russia – could make this poem prophetic all too soon. My old brain can hardly wrap itself around what a mess we humans have made of living on this planet. We have so much to lose, and have already lost so much.


  2. Really like this Sarah, there’s a universality and flexibility to it in that it’s one those poems that the reader can project their own situation and/or concerns onto it. You make it look easy when it’s not!…JIM


  3. “building pathways, bridges, doorways.”
    “we carve harsh words, shed tears into the stone.”
    excellent running metaphor.


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