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A Breath Away
There is that damp pressure
pushing against your skin
on those thick,
fog congested mornings
when the light
is almost absent
and you feel walled in
and alone
being deprived of distance
with the world shrinking
to a size little more
than what is measured out
by a few shuffled footsteps
from where you stand.
There seems nothing beyond.
And yet,
disorientated and carrying
all your doubts,
you push on,
nurturing a sense
of being drawn
inexorably towards
a somewhere,
measureless in distance
from the circumference
of yourself, but just
a mere breath away.
Copyright ©
Paul Willason
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