Air rushes into the cavity inside my chest. Emptiness replaced with barely tangible, life-giving oxygen. I take it for granted, noticing and appreciating it only after its absence has brought me to my knees. Throwing my head back, the air washes over me, in me and through me. It envelops me, but its grip fails me. Could the air bend around me in embrace, my happiness would be complete, but no such support yields the wind.
Thunder rolls and the rain comes down, caressing my cheeks in place of tears. Thunder rolls and the wind wraps around my back, in place of arms. Thunder rolls and speaks to me instead of lips.
Lightning strikes the telephone wires between my heart and mind.
Here, in the field, I wait.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment