“…in a lifetime, when do a child’s dreams ignite?
Once-in-a-lifetime -- How compact
How now-or-never and I the little fatalist
too literal, missed the specialness
heard it only as a door slammed shut
a visitor left on the welcome mat
open-mouthed. Or felt the rush of sash
windows, in free fall, when the cord frays
Can't you hear its all about luck and loss?
I cried over all lost things. My grey wool gloves
missing that winter of '59. Saint Anthony
recovering them in June, Too late -
the moment passed. Hope so readily bruised
when faith, its foundation, fractures, falling
like hail on psyche, mawkish and make-believe
But because nothing is just once and forever
(except birth, and then death of course)
I grew into a lifespan of unfastened doors
windows held up too, on outlooks
often w i d e r
fresher
clearer
than I could ever hope for
and in my dressing table drawer
(where Saint Anthony hears the forager's prayer)
there are winter gloves galore
though none are grey.
For Kim’s Poetics prompt “Once in a lifetime” in which we use that as an opening line for a 1st person poem. The epigraph is from Arthur Fze “Forage”
PoetryPix 
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this awesomely written piece, Laura 👍
thank you for such high praise
It’s my pleasure. Have a lovely day and week ☺️
This was so much of a journey into all that life is in once in a lifetime is where you find life with all its ups and downs… love how you returned to those wintergloves tying it all together.
yes this was a bit of whirlwind lifetime – thanks Bjorn
An awesome poem indeed, Laura! I am familiar with the ‘rush of sash windows, in free fall, when the cord frays’ and crying over lost things, so this one hit the spot. I especially love the final stanza, the hope in the three-word movement of wider/fresher/clearer. I have a bag full of winter gloves – no grey!
thank you Kim and for the prompt especially as I was unsure as to whether or not I had covered the instructions
Always a pleasure, Laura.