less is the key

I sent up a smoke signal not a smokescreen
and you know the white horses they came running
I like Humpty had fallen down, hit my crown like Jack
and lost my nimbleness and the front door key
I fell down the hill, tumbling over myself
whipping past the paper daisies
and welting from the bitu bush,
lantana scuffles visible upon my skin
it bled and I shed, I shed a tear for me,
for you and for me..
I shed a tear……

Breathlessness ached my lungs
into a despairing cough
and then I remembered
I don’t have to remember
remember to breathe, it happens naturally,
like skin shedding….
almost without me, despite me, I wish it were…..
instead of me

Invisible it could go here and there, unseen and unspoken
weaving little golden threads, lassooing other breaths
here and there, settling down
and sitting a while to ponder
whatever it is that I never did learn
pockets fully lined with linen that’s pure
I’ll find you there, beneath the stares
where no one can see us and we can just breathe
and be, and just be…..you….and me
we can just ……..be

where the sun rises and sets
and the moon has its’ moments
I’m less, less, less…….and less means more,
maybe less, less, less is the key to that front door
less, is the key to that door…

less is the key

© Karin Taylor

Joined February 2008

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