At the Edge
we are having tea at the edge of the abyss . . .
RAYMOND FARINA
It's a long way down
to darkness and fire
and the wings of night birds
making unruly sounds.
To dismantled clocks.
To shoes filled with tears
and garments torn
in boredom and grief.
But here at the edge
of the abyss
the tea is the amber color
of comfort,
the biscuits are crisp
and sweet
as you feed them to me
with loving hands.
LINDA PASTAN
Prairie Schooner
Spring 2015
we are having tea at the edge of the abyss . . .
RAYMOND FARINA
It's a long way down
to darkness and fire
and the wings of night birds
making unruly sounds.
To dismantled clocks.
To shoes filled with tears
and garments torn
in boredom and grief.
But here at the edge
of the abyss
the tea is the amber color
of comfort,
the biscuits are crisp
and sweet
as you feed them to me
with loving hands.
LINDA PASTAN
Prairie Schooner
Spring 2015
posted from Bloggeroid
