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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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.

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