inclined plane

I love lying on a roof
an angled roof
in the shadow of tall green maples

Hear the shimmering leaves
see the far blue sky
fall up to the soft clouds

clouds clouds

studies in light and shade
intense whites intent greys
tall complex louring
dynamic whispy
shear-patterned by high winds

feel the hard inclined grit
feel the warm breeze
drifting up the sun-softened shingles
smell rendered tar
live among the birds
look over the far horizon to
Olympus

Calm: I shall lie on my side
where is the edge?
is there a reality behind me?
if I roll back
(did I check?)
will I fall like an
ancient mariner off the edge
Be there monsters there?

Dare I sleep so high above
gravity’s kind invitation?

Sleep with elves
above the eaves
among the leaves
never to leave

What is the difference between
lying at the edge of a precipice behind me
and lying in my bed?
only that I believe it is a precipice.

I love lying on a roof
an angled roof
in the shadow of tall green maples

Hear the shimmering leaves
see the far blue sky
fall up to the soft clouds

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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