Edge of Existence

I pass this home often, huddled where it's windswept, no shelter from the sumac. There's a good view of the river, but time has taught me that's not enough to ensure survival. There are other structures with the same view, but better, easier to pull back from the brink of crumbling. There's a slow attrition that starts with the siding and shingles, a single loss in every storm adds up by year's end. There's life in it still, but I won't be the one to find it. I'll hang around watching until the moment that death wins out or surrenders. Edge of existence, this is the limit of my interest. It's the autumn of our honesty, and I try to tell the truth about who we are out here. Crowded out with hope, and empty for the better.

 

October 7, 2019

Belleisle, Nova Scotia

 

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