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Three feet from the door
Steve Szewczok © 2021 All Rights Reserved
I can hear Her laboured breath
A wheezing breeze captured by lungs thin air
At this altitude her oxygen
should last another eight months
The cold October moon rests it’s tired eyes
on this thin transparent sky
The look between her flesh
Her hard rising hands
control her broken movement
And she has risen above her son
In the quiet fractured blackness before dawn
She dreams on
she commits to what she sees
in that dim dead of night
She looks for a mother ’s light
someone, Anyone
to nurture the uneasiness of her sight
She stands three feet from her door
But she can not cross over
She will not cross over
Not yet its not the time
Or the place for such cold feet
So, she stands in a hooded inlet
Her escape only three feet away
But will she take it?
Or
Will she disappear
to another port
in another harbour
on another island
three feet from her door?
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William
my man! I know we discussed this on the phone, but i just wanted to point it out here, again.
the soft voice of the background singer here is beautiful....
"her laboured breath - eight months- she has risen above her son - mother's light - hooded inlet" just wow, or as you used to say - !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and 'three feet from the door' if there's a better way to say the deepest twilight of one's life........
Thanks mate!!
by Steve; ; Report
What William said with double the !'s
by Mike Carson; ; Report
Thank you Mike!! :-)
by Steve; ; Report