Living on the edge
Beneath my feet
A great lake stretches away
Pristine glass
To grassy slopes, rising, slowly rising
Hills of green and gold
And further still the blue and grey
Of distant mountains
The soft lap of water at my doorstep
The slow creak of a boat moored nearby
Wind whispers over the pool
Tiptoes through the grass
Shivers in the tree tops
And whirls away to dance around the peaks
I look down to see
Ripples of me
And behind my head
The undulating sky
If I fall
Will I fly?
