Moods of Falling

Moods of Falling

Joanna Friedman

Icicle mountains cling to hard earth.
I want to drop into an ocean fire,
swim to a beach of bare-blue sky,
and melt into your waiting hand. 

In caves of lime-stained walls,
my arms spread to grip bedrock.
Dissolution seeps from crevices.
In frost I write my glass façade. 

Tonight, I wear a winter coat,
and on that coat another coat lays thick.
Despite the heaviness, I dance a waltz,
and drink and smoke a forget-you fest. 

I cling to clouds, and want to fall.
God, do I want to fall,
I have to fall
But branches of that tree,
I love.
A safety net so thick,
I cannot fall
in love.

I crack the glass inside the old garage.
Shattering pain is all I hear for now.
Your window’s wrapped with cellophane,
it keeps my love from spilling out too much. 

A sill juts out from cliff stone wall,
from grace I step into the sky.
Prisms diffuse the rainbow light,
full speed, I fly
and flurry,
into you.

Joanna Friedman

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