Breath Poem by Brian Taylor
Breath
Rating: ★3.0
Fine and insubstantial,
separating the Living
from the Dead.
The hairs on your head
are numbered;
so too the breaths.
Preserved or polluted or neglected,
it drags us to our unintended goal;
the destiny of all we have protected.
Disintegration of the whole.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: breaking up
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5/5/2024 1:53:09 PM # 1.0.0.1119
