Jump

They stood on the cliffs

Overlooking the Sea

Silently saying

Why must it be,

Jobs disappearing

Mortgage past due

Selling nude photos

Just to get through,

Neighbors all nervous

Punks on the run

Sadly or gladly

They don’t own a gun,

Remembering a summer

They made love on the sand

They interlock fingers

And jump to The Band.

Stephen Nesbitt ©