Heavy Air

Photo by Shutter Speed @shutter_speed_

Heavy Air

Heavy, fresh, deep-breathing air,

frosted and hung over balconies,

draped with droplets of water – stare.

The season’s soft change is coming

and our blankets we will be hugging.

Deep-breathing, lung -filling air;

the weight of the freshness I can’t bear.

Bare and blanketed I sit here with

the morning’s soft edges so dear.

Dear me, time is slipping its knot,

loosening life as I go back to my cot.

Fresh breeze, perfumed with Autumn’s rust,

full-bodied and yet empty of spring’s lust.

“Lust not for the things gone,” I say,

for everything is now, in this day.

Day break breaks the seam of darkness

again. The power of sun we will harness.

My brow frowns – it’s timeless this orbit.

Timeless tantrumed toddlers rush me by.

I try not think about them and why,

why grow and be borrowed to life

when most see only horror and strife?

Strife twists in my ribs, a sharp pain

And bloodless I bleed without a stain.

This is where the world’s hurt lies;

in my bloodletting and soundless cries.

No matter what we do, everything dies

and bonds of carbon and more unties.

  -by Michael Stolt

#100