What's life but where it ends
and does conviction blend
in any way to assuage
a life in this dismal stage?
Will i see my dad, my aunts, my uncles (I've heard their all great)
will I have a place with lace that I applaude, or just soil and a pall?
my dad's dad is most important,
my deliverence is portent,
I hope he's ready to smack me upside the head
and show me how they did it back then.
Oh, how I breathe for the breathless. How I rest for the restless. Who wait for me in their wake!
I really can't complain, but what is questioning, but a familiar refrain?
YOU ARE READING
Thresheld
PoetryMy life is a series of thresholds that I overcome through poetry. Love, loss, pain, regret, humor, irony, word play, and even sarcasm are as much apart of my life as they are central to my poems here. I am Thresheld. UPDATE: It's been quite a few ye...
