Unnamed No. 3

It stands just past the edge of my vision,

A thought, a shadow, a fear

But it’s got no ground, no provision

To retain a presence so near

 

If all to be afraid of is fear

Then what exactly is this lurking fiend?

If my eye finds no reason to tear,

What then, does this shadow redeem?

 

Is it Death? Would he dare to linger

By a body and soul so young?

I’ll daresay, it’s not all unheard of

That leaves a bitter taste on my tongue

 

Is it the weighty world? I should think not

There’s enough to be said thus far:

The world belongs in proximity to me

As far as the sun’s nearest star

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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