At The Edge Poem by William B. Deutscher
At The Edge
There is a little something,
on the periphery
that ruins everything,
or so it seems to me.
There is a little nothing,
round the corner way,
just a hint of shadow
each and every day.
There is a fleeting sadness,
slightly out of sight,
that always lingers
from the first delight.
There is a dying moment,
distant somewhere,
but coming ever closer,
whether here or there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/23/2026 11:48:23 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
