I slipped on the rocks if it weren’t for your hand
Slender; slight,
a little worn.
It caught me.
I asked your eyes if you were sure
There was
So much of me
And so little of you
And everything so insecure
But They held steady,
Just like your hand.
As It caught me.
The ground fragmented and black wet rock
Split by the tilted fury of the river
As it fell
the Falls.
But I didn’t,
Because your hand,
Quiet and firm
Too delicate, but still…
It caught me.
About the Creator
Anna Cunningham
Longtime poet residing in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains
Keep reading
More stories from Anna Cunningham and writers in Poets and other communities.
If You Love Me, You'll Do It
I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Awww, this was so lovely! Such a wonderful poem!