Sitting atop the westernized <br />version of Haleakala, <br />my own Molokini; <br />staring at my feet and <br />the following abyss. <br /> <br />a road going nowhere. <br /> <br />wisps of elder hair amongst <br />a blue face, <br />pulling at my lips <br />enveloped by the bliss <br /> <br />life to the left, the right, <br />in front and behind. <br /> <br />a preferred isolation.<br /><br />Kale Beaudry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/emptying-my-lungs-at-the-top-of-the-world/
