Witness
One is always at the periphery
scribbling of things spied at the center.
The center never knows itself
but is always and only itself.
Someone must bear witness
at a comfortable remove.
The colors are always
misremembered from the fringe
but the audience bring
their own colors, anyway.
scribbling of things spied at the center.
The center never knows itself
but is always and only itself.
Someone must bear witness
at a comfortable remove.
The colors are always
misremembered from the fringe
but the audience bring
their own colors, anyway.
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Author's Note
If you want me
You can find me
Left of center
Off of the strip
In the outskirts
In the fringes
In the corner
Out of the grip
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Yep. Often, I feel like I'm sitting at the fringe.*
So true about the colors. *
"Someone must bear witness" Like this a lot, Gary.
I like the juxtaposition of center and fringe.
"The center never knows itself" - so true. Good poem, Gary.
The fringe feeling: I call it "anthropologist on location." Happens a lot at faculty parties.
Someone must bear witness
at a comfortable remove.
So true. *
"One is always at the periphery
scribbling of things spied at the center."
Well said, Gary.
If the witness were in the center, he/she would be participant, not witness.
Check out Manhattan Transfer by John Dos Passos, a novel in which the center of the city can never be found because it is always moving.
Thank you, Amanda,
Matt,
Paul,
Sam,
Gita,
and Bill.
What Amanda said *
Thank you, John.