Near the Edge

The houses are on the edge, between two worlds, the magical and the all-too-real,
The train clatters past them. Where to? Who can know- or care?
Then is the mad canal, its waters flowing through like a stream,
Humans walk past. Cycling, talking. Commenting on beauty,
The dogs bark the same. Sniff each other. Forming friendships.
Cats are snootier. Like Victorian snobs they survey their territory,
Horses clip-clop down the path. A step away from fairytale,
Snow and ice compete now, where the sun once was,
Birds have flown now, their beautiful wings spreading into V
Once, a white swan lived on the canal and competed
With the ducks for school places,
This is the time of year when rabbits hide,
This is a place when the edge is so close.