to you

it might be me who has the key

the world curves down below us,
our feet stopped
so our eyes could look up
from staring down for all our lives
and see everything we've missed
when they flew past our hanging heads.
endless mountains
sprouting with green,
they go back,
hiding behind each other,
until they've disappeared from sight.
metal chains
strung from each pole to the next
border the pathway
of hundreds of steps to the
peak,
and my hands grip them lightly
with the fear still thriving
that maybe they'll be
a slip,
a fall,
a death.
a harmony of shining reds and golds
billow in a gentle breeze,
the ribbons waving to us
as we passed them.
words carefully engraved,
forever etched into the metal and brass
of thousands of locks
that have been intertwined with the chain,
locked onto any empty space,
locking in the words written.
short messages to loved ones.
wishing the elderly good health,
wishing the young with joyful lives and success in the future.
names written together
to promise infinite love.

if only i could write your name and mine
together
and lock in our love.
but i'm afraid that one of us
will have the

key.