The Epilogue Entries – No.5

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BREATHE IN ME

∴

I don’t pay much mind
to the moon anymore;
her light shows the shadows too well.

Nor have I went walking in the wind.

I am tight
in my garments
in doors.

 

But sometimes,
when sun burns through

the
low,

hanging,

grey,

clouds,

and lights up snow flurries
like a flock of fireflies,

 

when all the dull brown grass
momentarily flares up in gold
and glistens like hair –

long, flowing hair,
as I used to let it –

 

when I see the branch
on the tree
that will not loose her leaf,

 

I think of all that changed me,
and brought me here,

and briefly,

allow that breath

to breathe in me,

again.

∴

 

 

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