I stand on a ragged edge.

My feet ache,

Crumpled like broken claws.

 

I am unsure:

Am I distorted

And blurred?

 

Do I sing

In some voice

Not my own?

 

Demands disallow

The silence

For thought.

 

Too often too much

Rips and pulls

Like tides.

 

Beneath this clamor

I listen—

My heart beats

 

Steady, yet wary

Like a rabbit

On a field’s edge.

 

I gather my doubts

And step out

Into air,

 

Until all

That falls

Falls away.

 

(January 24, 2018)