One narrow way blows 
 past corners relentlessly,
 squeaking and timid in
 red blushes on round cheeks.

Here on this 
 wide sky-framed bluff
 risk comes not from others.

How real is hurt when
 rocks have served as floor
 with fissures underfoot or
 minuscule ledge toehold?

Perhaps tomorrow one 
 can hear “no”
 and speak “yes”
 and live.
Mary Joan Meagher