threshold

the field is there // green past the glass / i have stood here long enough to fog the glass and watch it clear // out there / figures crossing / unburdened / not one of them looking back

i know the way across // the gate / the weathered path / i have walked it so often in my head the stones are smooth where i have never set a foot

morning / and the inventory - which joints have slipped their sockets in the night / which will bear me / which will not i cannot promise the day a single thing

the tea goes cold at my elbow a small defeat i sit and watch arrive / the cup an arm's length off / and the arm will not / will not / will not

and the mind / which sees the door / which swears this is the day it crosses / cannot find the hour where the wanting becomes the going

even were i to cross -- the way was never cut for my stride / one gate / one route / and behind it the field that once was common ground / fenced / surveyed / signed across to its owners while we were busy keeping ourselves upright

dusk / and the field goes gold / its loveliest / and i could put my fist through the glass for how quiet i have been

and tomorrow / or long past tomorrow / maybe past me altogether / we come to the wire - burdened / all of us / not one at a time through their good gate but all