“Salt Water Snapshot” by Abbie J. Bergdale

Salt Water Snapshot

By Abbie J. Bergdale

You smile and pose, teetered
on the edge of the wall. You feign
the fall and what if you had?
I’m not sure how far you’d drop, but sister,
I can’t see bottom.
What is beauty without risk? A country who sold
the last military plane to the states on
a bucket of faith.
Even the tide, wild and blue, slows against the stone.
How do you measure bravery? One small town girl,
four toes gripping the edge: balanced
between alone and alone.