On the very edge,
where you go to curl your toes
into prayers.
Ten tiny bodies bent shoulder and hip
heads tucked in tight
as if curved spines can protect them
from the weight pressing forward,
you, so wind washed of expression,
clinging on.
Knife-edge – A Poem By Carol J Forrester
Carol J Forrester 
What a spectacular image! I especially love:
“where you go to curl your toes
into prayers”
I imagine a swimmer, on the edge of the pool, getting ready to dive.
My first thought was of those individuals who go and stand right on the edge of cliffs. It always turns my stomach a bit, the sheer drop that doesn’t seem to bother them. There’s a freedom in not fearing getting that close to an edge though.
I had exactly the same image in my head as De, those toes curling waiting to push the swimmer forward… and it can work as a metaphor for anyone who is ready for the leap.
It will be nice when we can all go back to swimming pools. I miss that explosion of energy that comes with pushing off from the edge.
‘you’re so wind washed of expression,
clinging on.’
I love that image. What must go through the minds of people who stand so close to the edge? I wouldn’t dare; I get vertigo just thinking about it!
I’ll admit it sent my stomach flipping just thinking about it. I like a nice seat, well away from any drops. Heights tend to send me a bit funny.
This is incredibly deep and potent. I agree, the image “curl your toes into prayers,” makes for a great metaphor for those who wish to dive into a pool of conviction 🙂
I mulled over the prompt for a bit, worried that my first few ideas were a bit too obvious or close to poems I’d written before. This ended up being the idea I settled with, so it’s lovely it went down so well.
What incredibly imagery, and a lovely, thoughtful poem.
Thank you. 🙂
You capture that cliff’s-edge feeling so well. Wonderful quadrille.
Thank you Dora. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
I had to read your quadrille a couple of times, Carol, and each time a different image came into my head. The first time, I saw a diver on the edge of a diving board; the second, someone on a roof; and the third, someone on the edge of a cliff (which could have been because I watched the film ‘Hope Gap’ at the weekend). I love the phrases ‘where you go to curl your toes into prayers’ and wind washed of expression’.
Thank you Kim. I’ve not seen Hope Gap, was it a good film?
I liked it: no special effects, just good acting.
Carol,
I will never look at my toes the same way again.
Fantastic.
-David
Thank you, I’m really enjoying how much of an impact I seem to be having on people’s relationships with their feet.
The phrase wind washed expression sticks in my mind. I think when (and if) I EVER get to be with people again, not just my expression will be wind washed!! Love the curled toes though!
Thank you Beverly. I’m hopeful that we’ll get to be with people again soon, but I’m trying not to hold my breath. Once burnt twice shy.
Perhaps I’m revealing too much of my genetic heritage, but I don’t care: my mother had exteeeeemely prehensile toes. She could actually pick things up (& I’m not just talking about tissue papers or small crumbs). I swear to god she could probably pick up golf balls.
You paint these toes beautifully, Carol. Write on, Sister!
My husband has too! It really throws me off when I ask him to pass a hairbrush and this monkey foot appears over my shoulder.
Adrenalin junkies feel alive on the edge. There has be another way to get a thrill, but I don’t know of any. Lots of potent imagery that evoked good comments.
Thank you.
You’re welcome.
I can’t get enough of this. I read it a few times. The words you chose are incredibly beautiful, especially those last two lines. I think they will stick with me 🙂
Thank you, that means a lot.
I can just imagine toes wrapped onto the edge of a diving board.
I really like the way you describe the toes as
“Ten tiny bodies bent shoulder and hip
heads tucked in tight,”
This is just a wonderful poem.
Thank you Ali, I was quite proud of that description. Didn’t realise how well it was going to go down though.
Lovely tension in this piece – the image of the ten tiny bodies resisting the impulse, the shift in weight – and over it all the scary title of your piece – makes my toes curl.
I do seem to have had quite an impact on a number of people’s toes with this piece.
Prayers before that leap of faith, life on the edge!
The first reading is about the sounds, which flow so beautifully, and the second where the more concrete meeting seeps through, and the third where you get the visual. Wonderful.
Thank you. I’m so glad it stands up to the rereads.
Funny thing, Carol, but I immediately saw 10 young boys dressed in orange linen, heads shaved, crouched together in prayer at a Buddhist shrine. A marvellous poem.
Thank you Misky. What a vivid image.
This is beautiful…. I value your choice of words.
Thank you.
[…] a two-pronged discussion on edges and fringes with prompts coming out of it. Carol’s poem, “Knife-edge,” stuck with me. I started thinking what would it look like to be edgy with poetry. Doing a […]
Your ‘knife-edge’ is thoughtful and unique, shaped equally physically as it is mentally. Loving these ending lines: “from the weight pressing forward,
you, so wind washed of expression,
clinging on.”
Thank you, I’m glad to hear you enjoyed it