Lip Of The Abyss

Mike Essig
Nov 10, 2019 · 1 min read

Dawn unwinds a yawn.

The crush of raven cold
on morning’s weak shoulders.

An old black dog barks.
Gelid avians flutter south.
Cars gasp and sputter.
Hearts won’t jump start.

The depth of frozen.

Margin of mysteries
where calculations collapse,
where hope hides

Dreams of newer days,
of warmth and touch,
of better and much.

What will come will be.
What isn’t, won’t.

Push the portal open.
Take a tentative step.

We shall see. We shall see.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

Mike Essig

Written by

Honorary Schizophrenic. Recent refugee. Displaced person. Old white male. Confidant of cassowaries.

Other Voices

A sanctuary for orphaned poems and prose.

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