A TIME BETWEEN

How oft are we aware
Of stages in between
Of being hungry or replete
Or how much time we spend each day
Within an abyss of between

It seems we’re meant to never know
Each stage of in between
One’s having pain or full relief
Of being lonely or with friends
In craving life or living life

I’ve tried. In searching out my time
Those moments in between.
But Is it state or state of mind
Is it accessible or not,
A realm of life that’s never quite?

Is this a part of me?

Barbara Grace Lake

I grew up during the Great Depression and World War II, joined the WACs at age 18, later married, had 5 children, divorced, and worked in law offices for over 25 years, all the while writing a bit of poetry. I had a short but successful career writing articles for magazines and newspapers, but became tired of constantly trying to impress yet another editor. I've now gone back to my first love, poetry. And that, my friends, is mostly what you will find on my blog, "Poetry and Other Crimes." I sincerely hope you enjoy it.

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January 6, 2021

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Pazlo
January 6, 2021 at 6:00 pm

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I view my life as a river. Some rapids and waterfalls, but also plenty of long smooth stretches.
The river and I are always moving.
We are always in between ports.
All of life is made up of the in-betweens.
Life itself is in between.
For we are always somewhere between birth and death.

Slainte,

Paz

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