Grazing the Edge of the Precipice

PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL ("Why Here," part 14):  

Angling

The Inca Bridge is always closed now; 

too fragile, 

too dangerous, 

unsafe.  

Standing at the edge looking across the gap 

was 

an anticlimax, 

no crossing over the precipice

swinging on a walkway of vines,

of rounding the next bend,

looking back,

triangulating.

My walk brought me back

just as a low squinting sun  

serenaded shadows

across the ruins 

and the mountains

and the clouds.

As I came off a high terrace 

to get a different angle, 

there were the llamas below me, 

grazing at the edge 

of the precipice and 

the cloud forest.