Postcard from the Edge

POSTCARD FROM THE EDGE


So I begin to write on the back of this receipt,
a thin scrap of narrow paper that says: Love's
Texaco #220 Cheyenne, WY Date 07/25/05
Time 05:23 PM, wishing I had a real piece of
paper to write on, but glad for this scrap in

my hand. Much later I sit at the window of the
tenth floor looking down at a city like a jewel
in the middle of a desert so ordinary in daylight
it might be anywhere in the world. Palm trees,
birds running along the edges of rooftops below,

not afraid of falling because they are birds,
men walking, and taxi's in the streets. I have
a fear of falling from high places. Even if
I had wings I would be afraid. I know the sound
the wind makes, rushing past my ears as I fall

faster every second. But not today. They say
when you fall in a dream you never reach the
bottom, because if you do reach the bottom,
you will die in your sleep. Some night, maybe
soon, I will fall in a dream and not wake up.

Sometimes I fly in dreams. Maybe on that night
I will just fly away like a bird.
But I am out of paper.
Having a great time! Wish
you were here!

.