Poets’ Corner: The Onside Kick


Gasping for breath

Quivering in the cold

Not Even

The Rescuing sirens rolling through the fog of the Vineyard Sound,

could ease this blow from the fist of love.

Crumbling the infrastructure from within

Jarring the teeth to impulsively rattle

Continually piercing the lips to a numbness state of exasperation

as the

Beaten-down body whispers these words into the moonlight…

Deathifying the pounding of the heart

As the cold-relentless wind swirls around the taste of true sacrifice,

Without forgiveness

Providing a pasting memory of all that was great,

A time of happiness, few are lucky to understand and embrace without reservation.

A stabbing reminder

The blade of fate can thrust into,


Lying beneath

is the Will to overcome,

Without compensation,

Igniting the fury

No longer, resting on the cloud of fear,


Electrifying each strand of hair, as if, standing in uniform

Even when

The tears cut a path down the wounded cheek

Even when

The dormant blood has time to stain the surface

Even when

The night overpowers the light


The first speck of light that battles

Out in front,

To be the first to meet the new light of dawn

Without flexing a muscle

Victory kissed the horizon

To tell a lesson, to be, never forgotten

Kris Wilson lives in Vineyard Haven.