Nette Onclaud
EIGHT BY EIGHT
31 July 2026
Fog uncorks wet cedar perfume,
then pours it through each waiting lung
where moss rehearses nameless years
and bark remembers rain by scent—
until my breath is not my own
but loam translating root to blood,
as earth inhales itself through me
and leaves with my remembered breath.
To let go of
the negative energy
I both inhale and exhale
I need to redeem
my old lungs
and implant
some new ones
to absorb
new life
and new energy
hovering
the atmosphere
around me
Written by: Mia Pratt, 2017
Trees are the lungs of earth, they clean the air and make our life perfect.
Green is the medicine of life, it gives us good health and makes our body feel fine and tuned for all time.
Like all of nature, it works with us, it gives us the stuff we need for our happy healthy life.
So be kind, and plant a tree, take good care of our environment, love the earth and it can love you, making all of our days sweet and smelling good.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
I consume the galaxy,
My fingers rooted in the cosmic soil of Saturn's rings.
Smoke enraptures like a comet,
Prancing in the vacuum of my soul.
The moon caresses me with careless whispers as I orbit thoughts I do not dare name.
Quasars pulsating in the rhythm of my heart.
Each beat is consumed by luminous stars.
I surf the cosmos in creation of my own cloud.
Safe at home in the infinite High.
What sits in stillness
What breathes back life
into heaving, dusted lungs
What holds space for this outline of my body
Traced by your alabaster hands
like dandelions on my skin
A feather touch
with the cadence of a humming bird
What comes down on my outstretched arms
like the warmth of an old radiator
Tink tink tink on my open shoulders
What brings me back to the calmness of the sea
What rushes in my heart
like a heavy tide, flowing into me swiftly
yet with the patience of an oyster
What is drawing in delicate aromas
Awakening my senses
allowing me to taste the sweetness
of the earth again
What could ever bring me the peace
of a dove
But to be here with you
my love
There's an echo in the crackling of the fireplace
Evanescent sparks scatter the room
I sit with biding eyes affixed to the flame
There's a coldness still
that penetrates the air and fills my lungs
I choke on it, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth
No words come out my belly ablaze
Just a quiet shiver between rattling teeth
I cling to the warmth of a coffee mug
gifted to me by my mother
Her words still afresh in my wandering mind
"Quit picking your wounds if you want them to heal"
But my hands are anxious and I needed something to feel
The sun peaks through my window pane
Slowly rising to give her kiss
As if to ease my pain
Its the kind of cold
Where we draw hearts on windows
And see the evidence of our breathing
We know we're alive because
We feel everything
The air pinches our skin
"Wake up and don't go"
But as the candles slowly dimmed their light
and we drank the last bit of the Merlot
Our cheeks went flush
Saw the blood rush in
Like a tidal wave
Too late to save
So I hide in plain sight
And I cover my face
You pull my arms down;
Tell me I belong in this place
Its the kind of air that pumps
straight into your lungs
Breathing life into words
that roll off smooth tongues
It's the kind of night
the light scatters through
Convince me to stay
I'll turn everything blue
Your love came shyly wrapped—
I almost tore the paper too roughly.
One careless tear
and the whole gift might have scattered
like thin glass across stone.
Now that it’s mine,
it trembles whenever I breathe,
sweet as the first sip of wine
after years of thirst.
I will not raise my voice.
I will not let it fall.
I will keep inhaling this quiet
until my lungs forget every other air.
There is a forest in my chest—
It grows no trees, only space
where willows once stood.
Where light rives in but answers nothing
Illuminates only the certainty of Eclipse—
Creatures born of Lack—
drift-ice flecks of snow
that fell inward and refused to thaw
They pace in slippers threadbare
unbearable—breeding Hunger into Dissent
like wolf-teeth gnawing Bone.
They are the sounds Lack makes
when Loneliness grows lungs
feral for the breath
I still must spend—
One day I’ll wrench them
into Riven Breath of Sky—
cavernous, storm-wrought
yet clawing still—
They’ll rasp the Void
like blades through Snow
my chest a Hive of emptied Bone—
And I
remain the Forest without Trees
oozing riven Light
that answers Nothing
being inscribed in snow.
I take you in like water
to quench my thirst and pain.
I breathe you in like the air
that keeps my lungs and pulse.
I couldn't resist
leaning on your shoulder
and feeling the warmth of your chest.
My feelings were in a twist,
flying in the land of nowhere,
before you insisted
on mending my broken pieces
and creating a new world
inside my walls.
My challenge for October
Is to still be alive in November
I am in my 89th year
It is not dying, I fear
We all face challenges every day
Life will always be that way
From the moment of conception
To our resurrection.
Life is a challenge.
I taste the wind deep in my chest
each breath sharp with sky and grit.
Dawn pushes heavy against my shoulders
every step thunders beneath me.
Hills rise, silent and stubborn...
creeping memories I cannot shake.
My hands throb, my legs burn.
A silent spark beats beneath my ribs.
Every footfall sends a spark.
Each pulse beats with stubborn will.
They rush past - brushing my arm
their courage carried by the wind.
The last stretch hums beneath my bones, a rhythm only the determined feel.
I’m tired, but I keep going.
The ache is there but I carry on.
The finish isn’t the line I cross,
it’s the strength I hold beyond it.
it’s the strength I carry past it.
Every step brings a small victory.
Every breath keeps its own strength.
A life built one stride at a time...
foot by foot, wind at my back.
I would take in liters of air of
confidence and honesty,
after that, I would dive
in the deepest parts of the
political ocean
to hunt politically apathetic, callous
dishonest squids
They are airy light and crispy feel and look like cork, a yummy treat
Buffalo lungs my three dogs love to eat
A midday snack they gobble them down
A stranger dog treat could it be found
Sassy grabs hers runs and hides and gobbles it quick
The old boys sniff at theirs and give em a lick
Kublia settles down and begins to gnaw
lifts his head smacking his jaws
Genghis stares at it then lifts his head and growls
Watching to see anyone for his treat prowls
He sniffs it again laying down with the treat in his paws
Begins to chew the Buffalo lung licking the bits that fall
Sassy comes to Kublia whimpers and whines
for his treat she desires herself to dine
But for his treat she admits defeat
all of it did Kublia eat
She sneaks by Genghis who gives a warning yap
Watching her close in he does growl and snap
Sassy retreats and whines for she thinks the treat is mine
Genghis eats it all, so good he licks his paws
Dried Buffalo lungs a dog treat I never saw before
But for my dogs they are a snack for them a score
So reward your dogs with a crispy light piece of Buffalo lung
Small bag at Dollar Tree, order large from Amazon.
All the folks in the district
Know that they should walks restrict
Or guards shall restrict their walks:
Make them suspend lengthened talks
Or with lengthened talk send down
To the valley of the town…
All the folks in the district
Like human lungs that constrict,
Because bronchitis is strict
And tormenting hour picked…
In an-too-strict district
No lips just funnily licked
No face with a funny streak
Or prison for a full week;
Legal redress to not seek
As lawyers have their harsh beak!
So, how like you such, free man!
Three months I’d live there and ran.
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