Red Breath Poem by Fred Rik Kesner

'red breath'




Opening the cupboard,
something warm stepped out,
a small red breath
moving before being addressed.

It drifted across the tiles,
a slow as a thought
unwelcome in the room.

The floor shifted under it,
a faint shimmer
occupying space
recalling other
iterations of self.

Air bent sideways
to make room
for the red breath's passage.

It settled on a wrist,
light,
bright,
steady,
pushing for the house
to adjust.

Nothing visibly changed.
Only the red breath remained,
extending certainty,
regretful of places
it hadn't dared to land.








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