Erika Koenig-Workman

Still


I stand on a roof top to let sun bath me while I wait for seagulls to depart upon a precipice metal is cold steady underneath it supports and sustains 

How long will this go on I wonder with a resolve that cannot be matched I ask can you stay still with me waiting upon the tide well beyond your measured patience 

I was made for this so I linger transfixed and joined to landscape as if on a tight rope beneath sand clay and metal enable me to balance well and strike silent perfection 

If only humans could attain to this and deeply cease from all violence in the world their very words and actions ending in peace would be well practiced upon this precipice