Edges of the World

Written for The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #174

Words:  demimonde, transgression, rites, asylum, gray, candle, Africa, myself, oranges, grand, reborn

Transgressions of the demimonde
cut a swath of gray across
Africa, where people lit
candles to pray for them.
Grand rites were enacted
by a sect of orange-robed
women who claimed to know
the secret of rebirth.
When rumors whispered
that this fringe of folk
might be better off
in an asylum, I, myself
said prayers for them.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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3 Responses to Edges of the World

  1. I like how the poem smooths out the “edges of the world”, how prayers come full circle.
    Love how you used “orange” in a striking image and love how “robed” and “rebirth” work together.
    A beautiful read.


  2. seingraham says:

    Beautifully penned Sara…a different take again (isn’t interesting how we all have such unique perspectives using the same set of words?)…thanks for stopping by my blog as well…

    Liked by 1 person

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