Transitions
When I was seventeen
it was seemed a very good year.
I'd moved slowly
back and forth
across the threshold
between child and adult
for a long time.
And it felt a long time still,
since I'd been ready,
ready
to take that final leap.
Now I was approaching
a new threshold,
hovering between
ballroom and beat.
Moving on from US rock
to the Mersey sound
and British Blues.
Moving from home
to a new town
where I could escape
the mother's mould
and I was ready,
ready
to to take that leap
and embrace independence.
Ready.
But less confident than
the face I showed.
Excited
by the brightness
of my future.
Afraid
of the dark mushroom cloud
hanging above us all.
And I was ready,
ready
to do what
I could
about it all
when I
crossed
the threshold
and moved on.

First published in Silver Birch Press, January 2017

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