…and just like that
with just a quick word,
a pea-sized hard pebble
nudged over the edge
and tumbling down
the beckoning slope
and picking up steam
and skittering bouncing
off rocks and off heart
the slide starts unstoppable
the whole slope is sliding
en masse, sorta slithering
and chunking and pouring
and ka-bunking til nothing
can be done but just try
to survive the earth leaving
disappearing ‘neath my feet
and keep my balance
and surfing the wave
of disbelief made of
stones rather than water
then i am that pebble
pea-sized on that mountain
and falling away from
my fellow climbers
as they watch me bounce
on the rocks down below
and tumble so quickly
my white skin scraped red
and my heart cut so raw
on the jagged scree falling
around me like raindrops
of stony and ancient
hot volcanic weeping.
and the bottom is waiting
the same place i left it
and the summit is laughing
so high up the mountain
silhouetted against
the bright blue sky quiet
and gleaming in light
underneath my companions
looking down where I lay
so near, yet so far
untouchable always
and never crossed over
to join them on high
Charissa's Grace Notes 
This is so touching. It tugs at my heart and I think it hits rather close to home right now.
Such brilliant powers of metaphor and imagery as always. One dreads to think what the seemingly innocuous pebble / word was that started the avalanche, though the grim brilliance of the work lies in that it could be anything. The run-on lines really enhance that sense of falling unstoppably.
Elli… I am always somewhat in awe of the clear view of my poetry you possess… I begin to think I am being too obvi, not subtle…and then no one else seems to notice, so I can safely conclude that you are jus one sharp cookie!
It honors me to be read with such a ready and participative mind… Your heart, well that was allus there, clear and true. ❤
If I didn’t know the pain behind the pebble, I’d be able to enjoy its beauty. This is truly beautiful, and I’m so sorry for the pebble that caused it.
On a different note…WHERE do you find these beautiful images? They are absolutely gorgeous and so fitting.
LM, the truth? My longing and cagéd heart sings them to me, and I write them down
D’OH!! I am sooooooo STUPID! D’OH!
Sigh… I feel like a total fool. Images, to me, a poetess, are the word pics… Which my reply was aimed at.
You meant the pictures… *face palm*
Those I just find, in my insomnia
*giggles! I knew you’d come back and tells me 🙂 Yep – I knew what you meant and it makes sense. The mini-photographer in me is drawn to photos, too…though, you don’t need them–your words are photos enough. xo
Each week your work blows me away, but this one in particular is a ribbon of words that reveals little astonishments as it unfurls. Bravo, m’dear.
THANK you!! For real…I am soo truly grateful that you see it…see them.
I work hard to put things in, cover them up, and then let them peek.
❤
Wishing it could be undone, unsaid, untied…
Never…
to be uttered again.