At the Gate I used to know what kind of fence was here and what it meant. I used to know what we claimed we owned, where we marked our boundaries. I used to know whether I was inside looking out or outside looking in. I used to know whether the pink light that licks the trees came from the east or west. I think it is evening long after I left home and disappeared into the forest. Ed Gold Ed Gold is a Charleston, SC poet who has published a chapbook, Owl, and over seventy poems in various journals, including the Cimarron Review, Kansas Quarterly, and Rat's Ass Review. One of his favourite gigs today is running the Skylark Contest for the Poetry Society of South Carolina. He discovered ekphrastic writing in this artist's studio, where he wrote this poem.
1 Comment
7/16/2022 11:55:11 am
Such a lovely poem... full of feeling. Questions of boundaries, of fences that keep us in and out.
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The Ekphrastic Review
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July 2025
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