Maria Grist's . . .
.   . . ..(other space) poems

 

 
 

edges of reality

 

Unheard, a hissing point of light
Runs, tracing edges, trailing bright.
Each thing's outlined,
each rim's defined.

I strive to ride its steady flow.
My eyes speed past, hang back, to know
its treasured pace
of measured grace.

Shed leaden thoughts of why, or how!
See life, sequestered in each "now".
Life's light now breaks,
pure sight now wakes.

 

(© 1996-2008 Maria L. Grist)

 


back

the other space | the white feather | poems | lomography | lighthouse | web design | links | contact