"Safe Place"



Kathy Mac

Climb down then clip on like

that night on the cliff-face in Sardinia  

your platoon a shadow play for villages below.

 

This evening, you secure your mummy bag

then crawl in.  Nibble trail food.

Maybe a samosa.

 

An eagle glides by and pigeons

slap in beside you.  No one else

knows this place as a haven,

knows you’re here.

 

You’re held by struts and abutment,

cradled between concrete and steel,

offered up to the sky and the river

so far down people come here

to plummet,

to die.

 

In the morning you vault the rail and land

on the boardwalk.  Shock a jogger stopped.

 

Your beauty

breaks open

his heart.


Source: Mac, Kathy. Previously unpublished. 2018.