Here I stand
Motionless
Lost,
Unable to care,
To reason,
In this dense fog
Where the past is no comfort
And the future futile.
I am the edge.


It would be better
If I had no name,
Here in the big empty.
But I could be called
Anew.
I don’t think I could go.
Utter not within
My hearing plaintiffs.
I am the edge.

I have seen
The trinkled tributaries
Swell and rush away,
The sun embarrased
By the day
It made,
Hide behind a distant ridge.