The Edge of the Field

 

The stars glint like knife blades;

                   I stand at the edge,

          a taste of metal on my tongue.

 

In the distance I see

                   glass that holds the light

          without enlarging it.

 

The stars are not messengers.

                   The road is not a gypsy.

          And I am standing at the edge

 

of an open field, staring into the dark,

                   hanging back

          in the absence of a sign.

------------------Kim Roberts

 

Kim Roberts is the author of a book of poems, The Wishbone Galaxy,

and editor of Beltway Poetry Quarterly. She lives in the DC area.

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