breathless at the threshold

a true account.

breathless at the threshold
 
oh for a storm to break the heart-break heat
 
I push crushing blankets off my chest
and lay Vitruvian biting at air  –
my soul is drowning
 
I get to my feet and stumble to the door
an old man resentful at dying
 
‘here… now… alone… unloved… unmourned…’
 
I stumble outside and slump on a patio chair  
as I gaze from pots of herbs and
fruit-laden trees to the purpling sky
the night garden’s serenity over-awes me
 
my mind clutches at straws of comfort 
but half-forgotten scriptures mock me
with their futility
 
in glowing lights in flower pots
I see sweet friends, long-lost sharers
of laughter, tears, and memories – greeting me
 
I send love out to them
they send theirs back to me
 
I ask forgiveness for what I inflicted
on them and forgave theirs too
 
overjoyed at our reconciliation
I would dance – but cannot stand
 
came dawn-break
coughing eases – breath returns
the lights turn back to lights
 
they were just lights.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

© coolhermit 2021
UKA Editor's Pick!
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critique and comments welcome.
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Franciman

The harsh rapid beat of the verse make it truly compelling. The reader can sense the panic and maybe the surprise of sensing old wounds healed – one of the plus points for death? A fabulous read and one I will re-read…
Cheers,
Jim

Sweetwater

Such loneliness all through this poem, it really brings home the fact that loved ones cannot give any comfort to sufferers of this cruel virus.
The last lines sent a shiver down my spine. sue.

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