At the tip of the world’s edge
Kaja Rakušček
At the tip of the world’s edge
I stood
at the tip of the world’s edge
dressed in dawn
descending the cliff
I reach the ocean
and dance the dust away
my arms flail about
like embers flung from the dancing flames
and mix the morning air
I follow
empty eyed vagrants
with backpacks filled to the brim
through capillary streets
walking past car skeletons
and avoiding empty takeout containers
that dance in the wind
like tumbleweeds in the old west
I stand
at the tip of the world’s edge
dusk begins to envelop
all that we soon won’t see
Kaja Rakušček