The Point II

The very apex of the thing
and so sharp the point digs in
my one foot standing
balancing.
And the sides are smooth,
they fall away to unknown
depth   the base embedded
in the earth   out of time below.
All four planes meet here: 
pinhead
hard stone thing
my one-foot-apex
balancing.
So sheer the sides I can't
see how I climbed
but here I am
still breathing at this height
alive and high off the ground
but only room for one
and the swirling clouds
those miles below
remind me of the fall,
the solid ground,
and, looking up through air
how far still to go. 
Now I must grow
wings.

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