A Postscript from David
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Standing at the Edge
At the time of the writing of this note, "Standing At The Edge"  has been posted for about two weeks.  It seems that a number of people who know me have taken the poem literally and believed I am facing imminent death.  I am happy to report that this is not the case.  I apologize to those who were upset on my behalf; certainly, that was not my intent.  The fact is, I began writing this piece last fall when, in fact, a confluence of medical probems gave me reason to believe that, while perhaps not at death's door, I was at least standing  in the hallway that leads to that door.  Thus, the poem was not written in the abstract, perched at a safe distance from the edge, but in a period of true potential peril that lead me to reflect on the profound matters addressed in the piece.  I can tell you now, that those problems are largely resolved, and it appears my death is pending (like everyone else), but not imminent.

A final thought:

A number of people have commented on the sadness and grimness of this poem.  While I would never presume to suggest what anyone should feel or think in response to one of my writings, I would like to say that for me personally, Edge is much more about the joy of loving and living (and the greater joy I anticipate in the afterlife) than it is about dying.  I hope now that I have removed the emotional impact of imagining my rapidly approaching departure, those of you who know me will appreciate the comfort and hope this poem is truly meant to convey.
April 3, 2003