Ledge Memory

Over the edge, these ledges seem to forget
this is where I started with the wind,
which rustled through and took a moment
to decide whether I was needed at all,
everything already set before me.

Photo by Sen Is not a man on Unsplash

But this wind at the top is different,
it mocks and calls me a guise,
a thief of its loneliness,
its sacred sustenance,
its agility from the corner.

Yet it cannot ground me,
for what I fear is not the falling
but the living where I caused harm,
and equally the not living
where I have caused the same.

9 June 2026, Freewriters Community Daily Writing Prompt Day 3129: over the edge
This prompt came showering down on me, because I had written something close to it somewhere ago.

Not a part of this post, as this part was previously published on Steem.

No contact, just a lonely road.
Let me be with you.
Over the edge, no surprises.
Have I earned it?
Solace for the defaulter
I see only what I want.