douglas lewis

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Best Poem of douglas lewis

Apnea

I count to ten.
Please breathe.
Any sound would be so sweet.
French horns pinched
And starved for air
Would be music to my ears.
Please breathe.
A jolt and gasp,
A tunnel bored,
No pantomime to bear.
Please breathe.

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Dark Closet (Standing)

Death does not breathe
Within a casket
Standing on its toes.
And I am not alone.
My nape hairs dance
In muted step
As I grope to feel
The blinded stare.
But its eyes are
Nestled in a pocket
And wrapped
In heavy cloth.