We are drawn to edges, to our own
parapets and sea-walls: finding our lives
in relief, in some forked storm.

Returning with our unimaginable gifts,
badged with salt and blood,
we have forgotten how to walk.

Thinking how much more we wanted
when what we had was all there was;

looking too late to the ones we loved,
we stretch out our hands as we fall.

This Issue

September 21, 2000