Monday, June 26, 2017
They head straight for the highest point,
run up the stairs, floor after floor,
until they reach the top, spin around
on the flat black roof, enjoy the dizzy rush
of height. They hold hands and pull
each other this way, then that. Their eyes
wide open, they take everything in
and laugh at each other’s laughter.
Eventually, things get serious.
Their grip gets tight, they head for the edge.
They look down, look at each other,
leap. The ground closes-in, hearts thump.
Their hands slide apart, fingertips cling,
release. Chutes pop and drag.
First appeared in Clear Poetry