On the edge

I wish to be perched
with stretched legs
on an ergonomic rock
at the edge of a cliff.

The most urgent task
would be to watch
the distant shepherd
enter and leave my visual frame.

Nothing moves.
The only sudden movement
would be the scurrying chameleon,
when I throw a stone.

While I suck in the stillness
into my head
I shall resurface from the trance
only to check if I still breathe.