#TBT - Poetry Friday - Roller Coaster.

He hated rollercoasters

The highs and lows of flight

strapped to a chair

out of control

He hated the fear

of the unknown.

When she died

he spent some time at the bottom

motionless

staring at the huge machine

wondering if it would start

Inert

like a penny

laying on the ground

blending in the environment.

For a while

he feared the heights

and wondered whether

another soul sat quietly

at the bottom of the ride

staring

as he did

at the empty space.

When he found her

she was fearful too.

But she was willing to ride the coaster

to the top

and down again.

He knew he would still keep his eyes closed

and his tears would rise and fall

with the wind

and the grinding gears

of motion

would keep him from falling

into the pit.