Pure Flight

He stood poised at cliff’s edge,
rapt
in thoughtful disbandment of all that lay before.
In limbo he felt he was floating,
waiting to jump or fall,
to fling himself off and
f
  l
    y
       f
         l
           o
              a
                 t
                   i
                     n
                        g
across
the chasm of unfettered fears and dreams.
among the stars and sunlit stripes of ancient comets drifting by.
he paused,

thought a moment,
and walked silently away.
vanquished by logic that all too readily holds sway.

©Eleanor Clark
21 October, 2009