Judy and her dog Wag in the fog at Jordan Dam a few years ago
Photo by Doc Ellen.
Being Wise Forty-Five December 12, 2021
And when you can’t breathe,
the world is black, is empty.
No leaves, no red sky, nothing
but trying in vain to get air,
frantic, dying? Then very slowly,
a little air, then a little more.
Finally, an eternal time of five
minutes, then a real breath. I
won’t die yet. I’m okay now.
My son says, “Drink some water,
drink hot tea.” But first let me
breathe. To live we have to breathe.
I didn’t think I would stop breathing.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk.
Hot tea is too far away. Let me
breathe, Let me be, let me live.
No comments:
Post a Comment