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