Staircase at Fifteen
Ascending, her centrifugal
influence captures me
and I follow,
breathless,
witless, wordless,
despite all longing
and shared
discretions, in spite
of the thundering
pulse
and the incessant
demand to act
or run.
She pauses, looks
down, sees
nothing.
Suddenly freed,
spinning off
and slowing down,
shrinking,
far below, on equal
footing but so
apart,
never to meet
in truth, unable
to define direction or
motive, I remain
fixed as she moves
higher, far away, close
but up,
always up.
O at the Edges 
i love the form for this poem!
always good poetry here
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Thanks very much!
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Always up! 🙂
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At least it seems that way…
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There are so many inclinations I had to talk to boys when I was young but fear of rejection stopped me. What a beautiful way to describe this fear of pain, rejection or even meanness we can be stifled by. Getting older has certainly changed that for me. Yea!! Great stuff thank you. Love Jkc
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That age was tough to get through! Thank you for your kind comments!
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It sure was, thank you for those memories.
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a beautiful piece
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Thank you!
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