Stones placed tenuous as silk
The path over troubled water.
Is it set? Will it hold?
My figure squeezed between crushing
Rock
Breathing in fluid
Filling my lungs
.
Or
Dancing over mountain shards
Changing a river’s motion ,
Stones placed tenuous as silk
But now I am standing solid .
In this moment,
My body is not mine.
Snowmelt decides which trickling
Streams
Converge into rushing sound.
These keep me mid motion
Falling or dancing
On stones placed tenuous as silk.
About the Creator
Anna Cunningham
Longtime poet residing in Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains
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