The Verge

Since I posted a poem from my first book last week, I thought I’d post something from my second book (Event Horizon) this week. “The Verge” is a poem I’ve always liked. The ending surprised even me. I remember being outside one winter, trying to articulate the sensation of standing in the quiet of falling snow. That was how the poem was born but I struggled to express what I felt. Eventually, the ending popped in my head as I sat with the experience in my memory and imagination. I hope it resonates with readers as well.

The Verge

Falling snow 
whispers 
and covers the ground
with afterglow.

Now and then,
echos wander by,
lost 
in the dark.

Everything is dim and distant;

frozen;

the verge of remembering.