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 2023
UKA Editor's Pick!
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critique and comments welcome.
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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…


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.


Hello, my dear friend.
I am guessing you remember our conversation about this piece of yours, and how we both wondered if we had in fact experienced mild Covid. One of us now knows, and in finding out the consequence is that the World has lost a really brilliant poet.
Enjoy yourself in the great beyond, Rick, and I hope the lights are the Trillions of stars joyous to have you back amongst them. May you creator bless you for ever.
Blessings, Allen

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