Midlife Critical

This is the midweek hump
The honey of my breath
I want sticky on my fingers
This is middle earth
tired limbs, aching bones.
I remember birth and death
come at the other end.
Sanity in intermediate flux
Here we stand. Middle ground
Hungry for equidistant passages to inspiration
Middle fear, mid life
Whys and hows and hopes
The book of ours burying thick
pages on its own in intimate layers.
They know each other too wellβ€”
sticky fingers can’t seem to flip to the end.


9 thoughts on “Midlife Critical

  1. saintcharlotte says:

    Oh my God. A wonderfully woven piece. One word flows into the other, and the melody within the words is pulsing with yearning and bursting with life while hinting on uncertainty. I love this Kate 😊 Your poem made my night 😊 Here’s to you, your poetry and midlife 😊 Will share this 😊

  2. sanberdooboy says:

    impressive poem. from the first line there is an energy that propels the reader to the last line. i especially was caught by ‘This is middle earth/ tired limbs, aching bones.”

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