Hanging in the Balance



You’re my grounding,
trunk branches that reach above earth.
You cradle me,
grounded in soil
in grit
in grime, grease –
solid you move
connect through and to
our earth, and I float. Overhead
seeing all of you seeing all of me
below watching us touch
one another, watching us flow,
watching the way we push and push
each other toward cliffs,
yours that side, mine this.

My heart cracks open like an egg.

Because I float,
I fly, because forever
and for always I’ll know
who you are, where you come from,
how you’ll die. The earth
serving you. Your stability
serving to hold me up, high above
all that’s concrete, all that’s human.

The cliffs can destroy only so much.
Baby, the branches. . .
crawl up them. Look,
if you choose
the right one, you can ride
on my moon.

©  Karyn Crispo 2015

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