Then, as Now (Day 4)

(Day 4 of National Poetry Writing Month, and on we go!)

I used to climb trees

but never to the top

just high enough to

dangle my legs and

feel a slight twinge of fear,

my palms sweating slightly

on the thin bark I held

in a white-knuckle vise,

and I would sit there 

until I overcame


long enough to 

climb down

which was worse than coming up

because I didn’t want to look

where I was going

for fear I’d be there

too soon.



About semiblind

Bringing you stark existentialism since 1981.
This entry was posted in fear, history, NaPoWriMo, observations, people, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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