The Edge

a poem I wrote about a guy I met about a month ago during a course

I have a friend who sees too much

and because he sees too much he feels too much

and because he feels too much he thinks too much

and when he thinks too much he thinks he'll never be enough

 

He lives at The Edge

That place with all the action; the Interface

Interesting place if you can manage the tension

Interesting place for transactions

 

But the bulk of his efforts go to dull that Edge

Filling a hole he's never seen and doesn't understand

A servant with no Master

unskilled teenage Lover

vicious Dog with absent owner

 

He's better than the rest of us at being alone but when I ask him why

he says he doesn't know

all he knows is the terrible truth of The Edge.

So we ask him, gently...

"come back to us often. and show us what you've learned"

 

That's easy enough for me to say

But he's not sure what to do with his good news

 

Wondering at his own steps in the dark

and the good fortune of Earth coming up to meet them

 

Acutely aware that this has SOMEthing to do with the rest of humanity

Driven by a cardinal pull that only occasionally seeks the Sun.