Poem: Ronald E. Moore - Transom and Door



The Transom and the Door  



Being, that strange interlude in time: I am a gnat in a silent

universe, but I have a name and can spell the ugliness and

beauty surrounding me.


Not the stab of the heart's malfunction. Not the noxious spread

of metastatic cells. A lessening -- an erasing of the cords now

climibng up the trellis of my bones.


I am the rain that fell not the cloud, which like my body, after

use, is disappearing. Where my legs refuse to take me, memory

will, to see the haze of years through the transom of time.


Of all the things there is beginning and an end. Our alone it is to

paint inside the frame. In love with the world's radiance, fading

now, neuron by neuron, light by dying light.


So I embrace this last gift of days, in quiet conversation with

eternity. A farewell not made in fear or anger, but in gratitude

its final flickering.


by Ronald E. Moore

As hear on Texas Poets Podcast, 2016