Tag: Poems

  • Close to the Edge

    Close to the Edge

    By Mary Pomfret   When I was seven and sweet I lived on the west coast, rugged and dark Rainforest, devils, possum ringtail, hanging from the pines.   Benign neglect, disguised as love, was commonplace back then. Mother would have been knitting booties for the next baby, Father tinkering in the shed.   So, I…