“A Walk on the Edge”

“A Walk on the Edge”

Let’s go to the beach today

It’s closed, I know, the Great Highway, the great expanse

But I know a way in-

I’m a scientist.

I’ll show them my credentials, say you’re my assistant

We’re here to study the shoreline, what’s left of it

Bring glass containers for to carry the sand

Bring a blanket for under our heads

We’ll collect our samples, talk carefully about the fragments

Of bone and shell and glass, found amongst the plastic

We’ll walk carefully on the eighteen inches of life

Between the concrete wall and the boundless sea

When the guards see us look up at the sky

They’ll shake their heads, like we used to laugh at anyone

Crazy enough to think that the stars could guide us home

But we know now how far away they are, and how close.

About the Author

Jill Bronfman

Jill Bronfman is a professor, lawyer, non-profit worker, and parent. In recent years, her work has been published in Mothers Always Write, Talking Writing, Coffin Bell Journal, Flock, Wanderlust Journal, Quiet Lightening, and a variety of law and technical books and periodicals. She has performed her work in Poets in the Parks and LitQuake.