Cliff Hanger

Erin Lafrenz


If only I were a mule,

Sure-footed and ready to hike.

We climb down, deep into

The natural pit.

The ledge creeps near,

The path steep and narrow.

The once howling wind

Cannot reach us here.

The temperature rises,

But the snow still

Blankets the ground

And the clouds bob overhead.

As we hike down farther,

The snow wanes,

The crowd of people thins dramatically,

And a clear view of the endless void appears.

Earthy, red rock

Makes up the paths and canyon.

Life in the desert stirs,

And squirrels chase after each other in spite.

Cacti throw their arms

Skyward, looking smug.

The air sucks every bit

Of moisture is sight.

We stop to gaze over the Grand Canyon,

Stand on ledges, and snap pictures.

My stomach churns as I peer

To the bottom of the deep pit.

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