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Image for the poem the drop

the drop

 
frail
he sat  
on the ledge
by the dead tree
 
slow draw  
the breath
taking an eternity  
filling
his chest
 
then  
a blink
setting off the departure
a droplet
decades in the making
 
 
on its way
three hundred feet to the ground
reflecting not just the light 
but also the shades 
from the peak
at each point of reflection
before hitting 
the rock 
bottom
with a velocity and weight
of a wartime projectile 
 
splash 
a crash 
a clash 
a splattering 
of nano droplets 
a micro rain
of emotions
memories 
and life 
that was... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
.
Written by cold_fusion
Published
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