I can't help but look at this
then see the new edges of life
the curvature of circumstance
the hand in front of your face
what lies beyond the bedspread
the next move you make to get going
to the next room, the next moment
steadies the horizon that always looks
more forbidding from far away
there is so much reflected here
though if new love grows on trees
if it's true, nothing can stop that
neither harrowing nor too dark
something's always coming.
©ROB SCHACKNE (2009)
