She breathes like a butterfly:
small, stilted wiry breaths,
filigree fragile like her wings
so easily squashed between
a finger and thumb.
She breathes on though –
all tubes and blinking lights
as her chest falls, falls,
then rises in defiance
against the pale washed walls.
She flutters and flits,
paper thin limbs and dry
as cotton lips – every inhale
and exhale is fixed,
a machine counting every tick.
She would be much better
off between the Spring to
Summer flowers, better placed
amongst the rising tendrils
of brighter days and fierce tomorrows.
But I fear this freedom
would open a door for
goodbyes and close
the mud-battered one
still keeping her alive.
Image by Anja🤗#helpinghands#stayathome #solidarity#stays healthy🙏 from Pixabay
Written for #escapril2020
Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020
This is so touching, heartbreaking, and with visuals that is a gorgeous metaphor for what is happening in our world. So beautifully written. Love, health and blessings to you my friend. Joni
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Thank you Joni ♥️ as always
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My pleasure. Love 💕 Joni
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