To cling, by a breaking fingernail, to an undercut cliff,
not letting your leg pivot and swing out over the valley,
and to note with one eye as you fight off panic,
the faint line of a cycad fossil in that jut of rock
by which your life will hang—this will make your hand
move about the rock, exploring, caressing,
in search of some slight peculiar thing
by which love’s fingernail could cling.
