Precipice
Standing on a precipice jutting out
Over a canyon, a hoodoo, perhaps
Is something I often envision of
Myself, terrified that I might just fall
To a painful destruction like that gal
In Yellowstone while her entire fam’ly
Watched in horror, her body becoming
Like a jellied orb of a blinded man.
What did she fail to see that all her kin
Saw in blatant terror? That precipice
Upon which I had been photographed safe,
Like a twelve-year old’s first public speech
Trembling, nearly in tears but his mother
Smiles and tells him he did such a good job.
“Did you imagine us all in under-
Wear?” The ridiculousness of that all
So common instruction abruptly wakes
Me to my precarious standing here
On a hoodoo above the river that
Would carry me away if I could live
Through this fall that I am about to take.
February 2025
About This Poem
I was inspired to write this poem after seeing a photograph of me on a cliff in Canyonlands in Utah. Just looking at it terrifies me, so I don't know how I got brave enough to get out there. So, of course, the poem is about that fear of heights I have. The photo is of a Hoodoo at Smith Rock in Oregon.
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