THE EDGE
THE EDGECracked gray sky, flakes falling from
on high; smell of warm smoke in the air.
A river of white stretches from here
to the edge of nowhere.
The Hemlock Forest stretches far and wide
and consumes the light of day;
as if waiting for time to fade away.
The air is thick with smells
of rust and decay.
A sea eats the land turning it
into sand; far as the eye can see.
The smell of salt reminds me of
what I used to be. Now the wind
makes no sound as I stare out to
the very edge of the bright blue sky and sea.
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