A poem by Isabelle Sorrells

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Here, on this surface of life and death –

This place I could fall through within its tenuous tempers –

A place humans were never meant to walk,

Yet we’ve tamed it still.

I send up a hand of regard

In search of companionship.

And on this foreign land,

When I see the answering call,

Even just in greeting from a stranger,

I feel comforted in the reminder of where I belong;

Knowing people from the same place

Have dared to venture into such an environment as this

Not so far away me.

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