on edge

it contemplates you, you know.

as you sit there watching
the ground an inch before
dropping away to the
end of the world-
where you think you're alone
where you think no one's been
where it's just you (you think)
pitted up against the line
that holds everything in
where you believe you are
the only opaque thing
in a transparent world.

it watches you
with a grin that's about to crack up
as the waves crash
and seem to shake your feet
you feel sublime-
the thundering of your soul-
but it's actually the laugh about
to break.

and when you've gone
after your little half hour
of communion with yourself
or with nature or with god-
whatever-
when you've driven off in your
little car
back along black ribbons
back to your tidy
wrapped up little life-

how it laughs and laughs and laughs.