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Crayon On Concrete; Collected Poetry: 1987-1993
Stephen Huff's Collected Poetry: 1992
Chapter 6 Page 7
Crayon On Concrete; Collected Poetry: 1987-1993
Stephen Huff's Collected Poetry: 1992
Chapter 6 Page 7
Stephen Huff's
ECHOES
05/92
Where am I?
The edge of eternity,
you are a mortal on the brink,
looking back over the broken valley of death
shining in the evening sun
like a lake of molten gold.
What am I?
Afraid.
You are a quivering idiot,
pent and shorn,
standing idle in a field of dreams,
not daring to touch the sparkling life around you
or the shimmering glory beneath your feet.
Who am I?
You are the covered one.
You are the silent man at the edge of the crowd,
you are the eyes in night's darkness,
the wary predator kept at bay in the shadows.
Why am I?
Because.
A thing of flesh and blood
is best used while hot,
for all God's children are but death borrowed.
ECHOES
05/92
Where am I?
The edge of eternity,
you are a mortal on the brink,
looking back over the broken valley of death
shining in the evening sun
like a lake of molten gold.
What am I?
Afraid.
You are a quivering idiot,
pent and shorn,
standing idle in a field of dreams,
not daring to touch the sparkling life around you
or the shimmering glory beneath your feet.
Who am I?
You are the covered one.
You are the silent man at the edge of the crowd,
you are the eyes in night's darkness,
the wary predator kept at bay in the shadows.
Why am I?
Because.
A thing of flesh and blood
is best used while hot,
for all God's children are but death borrowed.
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