Oh, it’s been awhile (again!). And writing poetry when you haven’t written poetry in a while is like going to the dentist for a root canal. Anyway. Thank you to Lisa for this thought-provoking post on dVerse. I am happy to take part–you know, after the swelling went down. 😉
I have used both fringe and edge in this poem.
Winter Mind Snow clings to the edge of the field a last vestige of winter in a year where winter stranded in hearts daffodil flowered April through sultry August where summer embraces echoed memories of a narrow distant past. At the fringes of the field lie fragments of the lost the cast aside the dead the breathing forgotten our souls, goodness humanity, a fraught stranger seeking remission. Sascha Darlington