adventures in dysthymia

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Breathe, a poem


The line dividing life and death
is measured by a single breath.

Exhale what is and all that might,
a wisp to fade into the night.

When next we breathe, what unknown air
fills souls now past all mortal care?

That dark divide breaks ev'ry bond;
breathe deeply ere you cross beyond.

Stephen Brooke ©2011

mostly short poems lately, when at all

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