And it occurred to me for one uneasy moment
 
 that every move I had made lately might have
 
 started a landslide.
 
 What if I couldn’t go back? What if I died in the crash?
 
 Almost immediately, the monster soothed
 
 me, confused me with a deeper question.
 
 What if the ride was worth it?
 
 I mean, who wants to trudge through life, doing
 
 everything just right? Taking no chances means
 
 wasting your dreams.
 
 How can I explain the pure chilling rush of
 
 waiting to do something so basically not right?
 
 No fear. No guilt.
 
 How can I explain purposely setting foot on
 
 a path so blatantly treacherous? Was the
 
 fun in the fall?
 
 I Hoped Not
 
 As I softly opened my second-floor window,
 
 peered down at the cement walk below, took a deep breath.
 
 Fingers clutching the upper sill, toes stretching
 
 for the first-floor trim, I managed to touch down
 
 safely. It may have been the safest moment
 
 of the night, in fact. Gulped into darkness,
 
 I let my eyes adjust, felt the breeze lift
 
 goosebumps, listened for signs of household disturbance.
 
 No motion. No sudden snitch of a light switch.
 
 No sound but distant coyote song, I silenced
 
 my conscience, quieted my screaming nerves
 
 and slipped away unnoticed, for the moment.
 
 No streetlights, no headlights, the world