Rusted Cliff Edge in a Red Dress


From the collection Picture Making, published 2017. The three photos served as the inspiration for the poem. For more information, look here.

Rusted Cliff Edge in a Red Dress

No. It just said
It shouted
It was
Neglected. Chained shut.
What was it used for
when it was being used?
It’s just a place
like a million billion other places
A plot of ground surrounded by a chain link fence
the gate fastened up tight
a rusted padlock to keep it that way
especially since the key has been lost
I can tell just by looking
bolt cutters are all that’s going to

no reason, just have to
I have to snap that thought in two
don’t want to think it anymore
I crave the sight of something
that’s not broken

I turn my head to look down the street
the row of modest shops. The window
with the bright red awning
displaying bright dresses for small girls. How well you know
That red awning will fade in the sun
Those dresses will end up outgrown
stained or
mistaken bleached in the wash
I can tell just by looking that

no reason, can’t stop myself.
I think. No

There is so little time
when things are fresh and new and full of hope
and so much time they spend having come to the edge of
but not quite there

5/27/16 for 5/25/16

9 thoughts on “Rusted Cliff Edge in a Red Dress

    • Thank you. Sometimes I hope for mended, or fixed, if we can’t have not broken, but that sight can get old too. I hope for wholeness to last in most things…

Comments are closed.