By Gregory JM Kasunich
In this breath restored
(drawn in and waiting)
floral and budding– sour in it’s newness
Will we awake with a start?
Revere stirred [and slumber stamped out]
Sharp and stretching into–
the perpetual argument?
Will our exhalation be a bellicose cry upon an ashy wick,
re-lit and flickering against the bitter winds of the same?
Or will we drip languid from our downy warmth?
Languishing and tepid in torpor state?
Stillness lacerating ventricles (breaking down the proteins)
A same sort of indifference, time defiled and fleeting. (easy come/easy go)
Stretching into the still lit sun
Comfort and joy (abound and surrounding)
In this breath restored- a demarkation hardly worth noting-
A moment between then and now we rise, once again, and choose to face the thing, any thing, new and again
repeating forever for the first time.