Sometimes the pain screams red the raw
And tugs the push
Into the from and jagged corners.
The furling weir
drags on and trails
blazing backward flames of perihelion anguish
while all the time
hidden deep
and as useful as forgotten notes
lies …
the point?
(3 November 1999)
Diana van den Berg
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beyond-the-brink/
