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This poem is taken from PN Review 148, Volume 29 Number 2, November - December 2002.

Thresholds David Kinloch

i.m. William Jeffrey (1896-1946), Margaret Jeffrey (1898-1990)

Two motes of something float
Down in sunlight, seed floating sidie-
Ways, (drawing your eyes to the lip,
The sill,
That lambent filament of flesh edging
Cornea and rim and lid),
A wisp of threshed corn.

The heat's ignition cuts
Out: breath baited
In the 'tick tick tick'
Of our Summer train
Marking time in Arrochar Station.

Definitions, roots of the word
'Threshold' bud in our warm
Carriage-bath
With its 'freshwood' doorway
To the corridor beyond.
...


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