On that Verge
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The border that you dread is never where
You think it lies. The feared or hoped frontier
Waits where you are. The Bergen-Belsen air
Is in your synagogue. You think you fear
Some distant threat but just above your roof
An atom bomb is falling. Soon the robe
You stored away last night will serve as proof
That silk is doomed all over on the globe
And not on Iwo Jima only. Fire
Flares everywhere, not just in Dresden. Your
Divan with smouldering butt will soon require
Your children’s lives. Safety is never pure.
You live near Moscow’s airport. Then a spout
Of death roars. Drones drive in and find you out.
~ Phillip Whidden
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