The woman slid down the precipitous hill,
Hurtling into boulder and tree,
Grasping for a hold on rock or thought.
Rolling and tumbling, the woman hit bottom,
Breaking bones and soul like glass,
Each shattered piece crying out in pain.
Staggering to her feet, she swirled with fear,
Yelps barely alerting her mind.
Scrapes and gashes now numbed.
The woman writhed and wriggled to a tree,
Clasping it as her own mother,
Never wanting to let go.
It was only the beginning.
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Submission Name: The Beginning
