November 2020


I forget

Then am reminded

That I am walking on a knife’s edge.

Worn thin by the world.

Its stories in circles around me—

Concentric

And pulsing like breath.

Inhaling.

Exhaling.

Next to my skin, an endless examination

Of each cough, each elevated degree.

And outwards,

To those around me

As we measure the distance

We hold between one another.

And ever outward.

The climate of arguing voices.

Endless static.

Step by step

I walk through the world

Surprised each time

The slightest ripple

Sends me sprawling.

Free falling.

Surprised once again

By the tender precarity of the moment-

By the tightwire fragility of

Each

Step.

3 Responses

  1. Thank you for posting the poem, Margaret. I relate thoroughly to what you express. The poem says it so well. Janice

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