To The Innermost Edge
the last facet of contentment. Pic.: of Göteborg’s harbour, my own
Living below the edge,
I enjoy free movement in compliant air,
pushing upwards to swallow bubbles.
Dying below the edge,
I am an object filling space on resistant base,
pushing downwards involuntarily.
Soon, I’ll push outwards in countless edges;
hungry maggots will tear me cell from cell
and convey me far afield on cellulose wings.
Only my bones will remain,
hard edges, still and clean;
eye sockets twinkling with water,
long gumless teeth in fallen jaw,
laughing, as only skulls can do,
revealing even now,
to the innermost edge,
this man
enjoyed being human.
Goth:2021
We, the active, can only plod on, submit work, comment when you realise feedback is a two-way courtesy, hope a few registered members return, hope some of today’s English-speaking people join after becoming aware of the social and mental benefits of small community writing, and that, fundementally, this long-standing site survives!
With more contributing, the less the focus will be on the few, keeping the site work-centered, not person-centered!