A rope hangs, pulls taut,

over the edge of a cliff,

love clings to the knots,

swinging above an abyss

masked by settling cloud.

Above there stands a figure,

a shadow against the sun,

and in their right palm

sits a knife, emboldened

by the disappearing light,

it glints in all that is left

and angles toward the rope.

Its eyes spot the frays,

the undone edges,

threatening all which love

hopes for in every tomorrow,

endangering everything

it holds so very close

as it clings to the knots

in the rope overshadowed

by the figure’s sharp edges

and unchecked malice.

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Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

Signed copies on Etsy

Photograph by Kristiana Reed