Fear of Heights

While dangling from a ledge twelve stories high
(not unlike that scene in Vertigo),
you hear a buzzing sound—a dragonfly?

Louder and louder it rises from below—
a flying car. As it hovers just behind you,
you’re snatched and yanked inside. How did it find you?
Before you think a thing, “Hi Fred!” A voice
you haven’t heard in years: your baby bro!
“I’ll drive you home. Mum, dad and Mary Jo
have missed you. Or we’ll get a drink. Your choice.”
“But Bob,” you say, “our parents are in heaven!”

The buzzing noises vanish from your ears
as you fall faster past floor eight, past seven,
past six—past all your seconds, minutes, years.

_______________________________________________

Form: Stefanile Triadic Sonnet
(Co-winner of Competition 247 in The Oldie, and appeared in the magazine.)


Comments

Regina's picture
Miles, Brilliant poem from a golden pen. I've been afraid of heights since childhood. I went up into the WTC twin towers four times, and each time was both awed and frightened. Best Wishes !

Regina

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Miles T. Ranter's picture
Thanks so much, Regina. I've never been to the WTC, though I've been at the top of the Empire State Building. The elevator going swiftly down made me a bit queasy, almost as if I were in microgravity. I get that way even on Ferris Wheels and airplanes. Thanks again for stopping by!

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