Musing On The White Edge
When I saw her sit down I began to wonder
She was no tourist and certainly no fool
And she knew what she was doing, I felt sure of that
Dressed in black, lost in music and inner dialogue, she stood out for so many reasons
Young yet confident, I had the feeling that she was part of a world I would never experience
And my curiosity gave way to appreciation as she crossed her legs and gazed out into the blue
Whether contemplation or meditation, it just seemed irrelevant
For I was sure that musing on the white edge encouraged her dreams of soaring rather than any fear of falling
While those all around her just imagined the drop.
