An Unburied Breath

An unburied breath
can remember its own name
even in the witching hour.
Dreams of my youth startle me
by how bright and close they seem.





Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings, Modern Marvels. The modern invention I'm most grateful for is my new C-PAP machine. Best sleep I've had in ages!