PoetryPix
depictions by the rule of thirds; descriptions mostly freestyle words
on edge
“So I sit on the edge, wagging my feet above the abyss” – Jim Harrison
seated as a half-pint child
feet far from the floor, feeling out the fun
limbs let loose as broken elastic
with each forward swing, bright, white socks
momentarily seen, like washing on a windy line
there is regularity, a percussive rhythm
piano and forte playing on chair legs
tut-tut-tutting adults – and the reverie breaks
I’m weighted to this ledge with a heavy heart
a fixed far-ahead eye pinpoints panic
how hypnotic the infinite downrush of an abyss
a succubus of souls, temptation for even a saviour
to test belief in rescuing angels
Joining Jilly for her Harrison prompts and Day 8 of 28 Days of Reason
15 Comments on “on edge”
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Poetry in Print
That pivot is astounding and heart wrenching and so effective! The view in both directions makes this poem one of your strongest ever! Outstanding!
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many thanks to you Jilly for this – I like your word’ pivot’ – just right for this being on edge between then and now.
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Nice how you swing us from “loose as broken elastic” happiness of childhood to the downward rushing loss of adulthood. Love the last line.
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quite a mood contrast but the ‘wagging’ word set the initial tone followed by the abyss – the last line rose up quite out of the blue – thank you
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Brought back memories of dreaded piano lessons for this half-pint child.
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I remember those – and can still swing my feet
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Me too 🙂
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I like the flow from light to dark…. you twisted it just right.
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Thank you Vivian – it started out so bright!
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😊
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What a seamless twist to this. I love it.
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glad to hear it slipped seamlessly off the edge – thank you!
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I can see this child, and I also felt this had a seamless twist–lurch?– to the edge.
Like you and Jane, I can still swing my legs. Yay for the shorties. 🙂
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thanks for your comments Merril – we shorties dangle with delight
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🙂
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