April 7, 2011
Grey clouds thin
Dulled frozen air
Muscles pulled taut
The whitening hair.
Wind whistling through the mesh
The breath of morning
Morning breath

Stiffened old limbs
Wracked by coughs
His insistence,
A sailor’s knot.
When a sky raised bumps on flesh
The breath of mourning
Mourning breath

Choking words
Rigid hands
The loudest silence,
Frigid lands.
All was living, new and fresh
With breath of dying,
Dying breath.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback