I saw her there,

poised on the edge

of the cliff,

as if perfectly balanced

on the flat edge

of a blade.

She was one of the ones

born with wings.

The soft barbs

of each feather

moved with every

breath of wind,

ready to glide aloft.

Tears coursed down

her cheeks, little streams

flowing down her neck

and into her hair.

"Why are you weeping?"

"I wish to fall."