an afternoon in March
chilled to the bone
drifting downtown just to breathe
the acrid exhaust burns my throat
but at least I feel my chest rising
it's been sometime since I've last
felt life in my lungs at all
and I'm ready again to believe
YOU ARE READING
of nothing in particular
PoetryA poetry/short story collection of mine without any planned themes or direction.
medusa
an afternoon in March
chilled to the bone
drifting downtown just to breathe
the acrid exhaust burns my throat
but at least I feel my chest rising
it's been sometime since I've last
felt life in my lungs at all
and I'm ready again to believe