Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2017
I remember when time started to matter and I was unaware.
I remember when the stars were further apart.
I cant remember when the earth was flat, but should it matter I didn't roll off.
My belt wrapped tightly around my waist secured to my belt loops.
I've never felt gravity ******* me towards the edge.
However I've watched birds flying in formation beyond the horizon taking a steep dive and then gone
from sight.
Did clouds continue past the shear face of the earth unable to maneuver the ninety degree turn?

I've dreamt I'm flying with arms spread wide, over my house, the neighborhood, the ocean enshrouded within those clouds as we nudged each other towards the abyss.  

I've heard the old ones talking in the pubs, brandy in hand, saying that the first ships that sailed did see the edge.
That the whales gently tried to nudge the great ships back away from the edge.
And yet, the harpoons flew through the air piercing sharply, deeply, and deadly into the ****** sides of the whales' dark round flesh.
Their blow holes sounding their last lonely warnings cry,
turn back,
the edge is near,
turn back........
Written by
Prescott Robbins  Irvine, Ca.
(Irvine, Ca.)   
241
   Elizabeth J
Please log in to view and add comments on poems