Monday, April 1, 2019

Take a Breath

I spend March 31st inhaling.

The morning sunlight
thundering down on the windowsill,
the skipping mandolin
notes sparkling gold,
the taste of a cloud’s slow
pirouette through the sky,
it all becomes breath,
it all becomes me

until I become breath,
and breath becomes words,
and words flow out in a great exhalation of poetry
the length of April.

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