at the raw edge of things
the end places
we see the grain
the broken fabric
meet the grit under the gloss
cannot avoid knowing
what things are really made of

rust fractures
solid stuff blown to dust
ragged edges tear
smashed boards
push splinters under our skin
we take the wreckage with us

About Jan Dean

This entry was posted in Dark Matters - some poems for Lent. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Damage

  1. suepoemcat says:

    it is dark, but very good x

  2. John Rice says:

    Hej Jan,
    Being kinda new to this Fb stuff I really didn’t know what to expect on opening your post…However, I read the poem several times so that it buried deep into my (usually) skimming brain and it’s a genuinely fine piece of writing…unforced, natural, the smooth product of an accomplished writer. Seems as if it found you…
    John R.

  3. Liz Brownlee says:

    I try and ignore it… lovely poem.

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