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A poem from the edge

  • Posted on May 6, 2013 at 10:38 am

Drink Brink

a glass its water still its smooth
round mouth speaks my refreshment
but I see an edge its hard
straight line will take the glass
and in one slight move will break
shards will fall an instant blade
and with it in a warm basin
a water colour red will paint
I know this and its obvious no
debate of alternatives just release
please give me time to slip aside
with this glass this incision in time


2013 © Andie Davidson


Reading this poem can be multi-dimensional. Read across; you know what it is about. Feel it. Now read bits (or all) of it down; then across, or up or at random. This poem reflects the fragmentation of the experience and (as did I) still retains integrity.

Now look for ‘inner’, ‘icy’, ‘fallen’. Ask what is happening to my will? In what sense was I in time?