A friend’s poetic reference to my second-floor balcony. I’m living On the Ledge.
On the Ledge I reflect, remember, and take comfort from a new and different standpoint. Reminiscences float free, my daydreams bubble; I’m secure here, amid gentle sights and sounds.
The caregiver’s journey long past, incidents bleary and bereavement dulls. Nowadays I look from atop the summit, no scrambling now for a toe hold on the cliff’s face.
The view from here includes friends’ cars in their spaces, a sidewalk that parallels the Muskoka River, animal and avian activities, treetops, sky and the stars.
Clarity is mine. Banished precipice perspective. It’s a little bit of heaven up here.
Living on the ledge transforms, enhances, and romances my point of view…