On the edge, I falter,
all edgy. Tetchy, and wretched. Hedging. Trying not to slide off
completely. Onto what might
be.
Copyright owned by Jay Cool, 20th May, 2021
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Pre-emptive
Posted byThe Silly-Savvy SalopianPosted inSerious PoemsTags:edgy, free-verse, Indie, midlife, pandemic, poem, poet, savvy, silly, third wave
Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian
Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered. View more posts
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