Pamela Corbett

Like A Line in the Sand


         The seam between 

         this life and the next

         is tenuous, threadbare.


          I know, for I was there—                                                                                               

          hovering, dangling 

          between the two.


         Hurting, pleading,

         firm hands 

         pulled me back.


        Another shore beckoned,


        sacred banquets.


       I lay there torn, thinking—

       if I don’t move, it ends.

       Still— I let fate decide.




Could Be



     It is late May

     daylight lingers


     minutes unravel—

     days grow long.


     Skies stretch in

     a thousand tones 


     of tawny 



     When Mary’s

     child draws 


     the sun descends

     over the sea,


     another day

     is done.


Walls of Time


Is there anything outside

the walls of time?

A place where the past

unfolds over again? 

Does it skip the present, 

add ripples to infinity?


Is the future is born

out of vast uncertainty?

Or maybe there’s a loop,

where memories replay, 

like a hiccup in time.

Subtle memories linger,

with visions of long ago,

yet oddly they remain 

forever the same,

like a lone mockingbird

knocking at your door.


Pamela A. Corbett is a writer and teacher who lives with her family in Bedford, NY. She loves gardening and biking along the horse farms, reservoirs, and  beaches on Fire Island. Her work has appeared in Dissident Voice, Haiku Journal, Boston Literary Magazine, The Journal of Classical Poets, and Prelude Magazine.