Confined Exhales

The motion visible,
in this confined space,
a consequence of my exhales.

Fixation on my breath,
that, in a lack of farenheit,
reveals itself.

Waiting to be reuninted,
with my warm,
and now empty,
lungs.

Dicipating slowly,
as not to subtract,
from my chances,
of making that decision,
one way or another.

The only reason,
I need air at this moment,
is to watch myself breathe.

Another of the vital processes,
we remembered to master,
but forgot to witness.
art
314 views 5 replies
Reply #1 Top
You're enjoying the cold, I can tell. We're going on a good 8 inches of snow here, currently.

Very nice poem, subtle and unassuming. We all need to be reminded that there's beauty in everything we do.

Reply #2 Top
Wow. Beauty.
It's so cold here, that it hurts to breathe. Of course, it could just be because I'm sick!!!!
I can't wait for summer.
Reply #3 Top
Yeah Philo, we finally got some snow and I went snowboarding and played some hockey this weekend. But we may get temps of near 40 that will melt what little we have....boo!

Rest up Nicky, hope you feel better.

-Suspeckted
Reply #5 Top
Abster, so flattered for your support here, hope I get to read more of yours' soon. And if you ever want to guest post here please don't hesitate to email me some work.

-Suspeckted