surface tension

walking a tightrope

above Niagara

does the wind blow?

feel it soft

then strong then gone?

tempting to try it blind,

for focus of mind and body

for pushing away the fear of falling

a teardrop hangs

from an eyelash

quivering, full

fragile

inside,

a salty world

of wiggly things

you can see

with a microscope

-and a larger life

that can't be seen

until it falls

and splashes

on the page

a blurred spreading

stain that holds

a river thirty years long

running dry in the sand

where butterflies drink

at the damp places

you can float a needle

in a glass of water

if you place it carefully

pierce the surface and it sinks

it's a delicate action.

I choose to walk across

that rope stretched high,

open-eyed.

listening to the roar, the foam.

sun on my cheek

and mist in my hair

the taste of desire

and oxygen

on my tongue