Bourbon on the breath
In this failing light
Beginning's start and end
A single wave, my bones are lonely
But a ghost can’t whistle
Nor halt time, like the end of a Day.
And Flowers jumped
The air grew loose and Sloppy;
An immaculate slur present
in every gust and vowel.
Crumbled force of Clouds
I’ve earned this Right to Stand or Sit,
The Weather will not Move me.
If Deaths Mouth is Set
On Biting Faces,
Then what Matters the inside or out?
Wind and Water, Dirt and Spit,
A Drunken Howl goes Crash! the Sky.
I sit among abandoned conversations and spilled
Quickly vanishing bright eyes.
Trees bend and snap
Waving me to Safety, “You Fool!” they Shout.
I breath In---
On the Breath of God
Copyright © Arthur Flockwhimsy | Year Posted 2008
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