The Jagged Edges
"Life levels off in importance. Days are no longer
jagged peaks to climb; time is a meadow,
and we move over it with level steps."
~ Gladys Taber
Her life is a page torn from a spiral notebook
whose jagged edges are tattered
She's bone weary and wears the haggard scowl
of a woman whose heart has been badly broken
There are jagged lines, wrinkles and creases
the kind that ages a beautiful face
where once his fingertips had left a gentle touch
her skin seems ravaged by sorrow
No longer can she peer into a mirror
none have been left hanging in her home
Into pointed shards they'd been shattered
in a moment of hysteria
There are no straight-edged lines in lost love
for the toll is measured in flesh
and the only traces of it left to recall
are memories that tussle her mind
There's an emotional mountain she must climb
jagged edged rocks will impede her way
but when she succeeds in reaching the crest
from grief she will have been freed
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