But stand on the edge of the land
any edge of any land
on a cracked uneven breakwater
signs warned against
as unsettled sea retreats into itself
emptying everything around you
into a deep resonance
as black-backs beat the wind
that ransacks offshore air
and the glimpsed island to the south
always holding station
in sheer accumulation of rock
continues into filtered light -
stand surrounded
by what could kill you
what could make you, raise
your sights, look
past the tethered buoys
waiting for death, past bobbing gulls
that are what they are
beyond the momentary transports
of a backlit horizon
to what you came here for.
Edge by Michael Curtis | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
