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  • Tony Frobisher

The Cusp

The Cusp


The Garden

There is a last second of nothingness.

Earth apparently bereft of life, barren,

Until the shoots emerge, imperceptible

And life continues.


The Piano

There is music between the notes.

Anticipation, a momentary tension

Until sound floats, resolved and

The melody continues.


The Bird

There is a moment of stillness

And resolute calm as the bird

Decides to take to the air

And flight continues.


The Soul

There is the briefest of pause.

A whispered breath, a last thought,

A final look, thankful for all that was

As life becomes past.



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