Breathing slowly

It has been a difficult week

A long run

Between prickly days

The running never stops

The prickles hurt

Each day chocks alone

With needless holes

Of lost memory

The running never stops

The breathing is hard

Is rapid

Is trembling, trampling and tumbling

The lone medic left from

The era of depression haplessly

Is begging

To breathe slowly

To hold life in each breath

Breathing slowly

Is a failure in being

The pages of the notebook scatter

Into the wind

Of a last breath.

….

April 9, 2021


© 2021 Alain de Sade

About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
This entry was posted in c’est la vie, Poems, Poetry, Reflections and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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