no Dairy Queen.
No airport.
No cinema.
Just the Confused,
with their dusty feet.
At the bottom of the cliff,
the No Longer Confused
in their matchless silence.
In between,
an empty space that is not empty.
Each entrant fills it (briefly)
with flight, adrenaline, instant regret, or transport.
As with all spaces
of sudden clarity and
illumination,
you cannot live there.
Just when you so want to tell the world
--yes, that recently rejected world--
what you know,
Here comes gravity the motivator,
solid ground the schoolmarm,
and permanence the principal
to shut you up,
lest you warn those wide-eyed others
on their way
behind you.
_____