Breath-Holding Time

Now in the breath-holding time
we walk silently together
toward the season’s turn
into the fresh shape
of the new year’s garden.

We pretend to breathe:
we eat and sing and talk
as if we were alive
knowing all the time
our lungs are liars.

It’s just that now
in our long age
we sigh and yearn
for every beautiful Spring
that will happen without us.

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About janemwoodman

Singer, writer, restaurant reviewer, urban farmer, devoted lover of my husband....old and getting happier all the time.
This entry was posted in Free verse, Gardening, Poetry, Spring. Bookmark the permalink.

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